


Act One

by scarlettblythe



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettblythe/pseuds/scarlettblythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by me re-watching the Pilot and thinking "these guys are way too mean to each other to not have hooked up", we have this pre-show, possibly slightly AU, exploration of how exactly two coworkers could ever end up with *that* much Belligerent Sexual Tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jersey

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first ever fic. It was alternately outrageously fun and nerve-wracking to write, but I've done my best to do these wonderful characters justice. Originally it was going to be a multi-chapter thing but as it turns out I have no control over my characters, and they went off and did their own thing, so now I have no idea.
> 
> Absolutely crucial information for you all is that this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4THwifCvBLY is Mindy's "that guy is so hot" music. Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty. Yes, I am a ballet nerd.
> 
> I don't know how to tag people so suffice to say this would never have happened without Calliope_Soars' awesome beta skills, tinyfierceandsassy's ability to smash down writer's block or Smapdi's cheerleading and generous gifts of Messina porn.
> 
> Please review! Enjoyment and constructive criticism are both like crack to me.

_Now I won’t lie, when I decided to move to Manhattan to finish my residency two months ago I had imagined a Big Apple Grey’s Anatomy, with my very own McDreamy pulling me into closets for steamy makeouts. Preferably without McDreamy’s wife or my underwear being pinned up on the hospital noticeboard, but the basic premise holds._

“I did not imagine being on a train to a housewarming in Newark with a McSteamy who is clearly bad news and a curmudgeonly old man who is taking up more than his fair share of seat space.”

“I am not old! I’m in my thirties! Men in their thirties are in their _prime_.”

“Ew, Danny, please do not shout your ancientness to this entire carriage. People will think that you are a pervert who kidnapped me because I am so young and adorable.”

“Did you just call me a pedophile? That is out there, even for you.”

“No, I am merely trying to save you from giving that impression. You know, when you’re not scowling and your frown lines smooth out you almost look a normal age.”

“Okay, this is not the place for this conversation.”

“Not the place? What, like our environment is so classy? We are literally on a train right now. Not even the subway. A _train_. To Jersey. Jeremy, give me one good reason for dragging us to this party.”

“I will give you an excellent one: Her name is Natasha, and she is an aspiring ballerina.” Jeremy quirked his eyebrows at Mindy in a way he clearly believed was devastatingly handsome. _And goddammit, it was. Why must he be aware of how hot he is?_  Her brain finally processed what he’d said.

“Are you kidding, Jeremy? You are making me breathe the same air as people from Newark for a _girl_?”

Danny rapped her shoulder. “Hey, that’s out of line. There’s nothing wrong with Newark. Granted, it’s not the Island, but some great people have come out of Jersey.”

“Danny, everyone knows that if you aren't in Manhattan you’re nobody.”

“You moved to New York for your residency! You don’t even like bagels!”

“New Yorkers aren't born, Danny. They’re made.” Mindy’s voice became dreamy, her eyes focusing on some far-off paradise. “The delicious smell of street cart hot dogs, the steam wafting out of grates. It seeps into your pores and - ”

“Magically erases your Boston accent?”

Jeremy looked up from studying the route map. “Danny, it is a woman’s prerogative to reinvent herself. If Mindy finds value in immersing herself in the great melting pot of Manhattan culture, who are we to judge?”

“Yes, thank you Jeremy! And Danny, you know I lost my accent after that traumatizing incident with the homeless lady and the oranges. I’m like that man who woke up from a coma speaking perfect French. Halle Berry will play me in the biopic.”

“Mindy, while I cannot wait to hear who will play me, this is our station. Shall we alight?”

“Fine. Ugh. Jersey.”

 

***

Mindy had finally given control of the music to one of the hosts, deeming her “sufficiently educated” on the current charts to be in charge of the dance floor. She flopped dramatically on the couch next to Danny.

“Why are you being so boring? You haven’t moved for at least an hour and a half.”

“There are 3 couches at this party. I get up, this spot gets taken by one of the stoned idiots hovering near the fridge, and I’m standing for the next hour.”

“You could have danced!”

Danny crossed his arms over his chest protectively. “I don’t dance.”

“Duh.” Mindy rolled her eyes. “Neither does Jeremy, but look at him!” Danny scanned the room. Jeremy was being taught what he assumed was meant to be ballet in the corner. His ballerina seemed charmed by his ineptitude, laughingly saying something about putting on the score from Sleeping Beauty so he could try being the Prince.

“See, Danny? Awkward dancers score! God, my feet hurt.” She deposited her feet in Danny’s lap, groaning as she collapsed back into the couch cushions.

“Mindy! You’re getting - dammit Mindy, these are brand new pants and you’ll get mud all over them.”

“Ew, as if I would let mud near these works of art. They were 70% off Danny! My first ever Louboutins!”

“That sounds like some kind of disease.” Danny hooked off the shoes and dropped them on the floor.

“Only if good taste is contagious!” She grinned triumphantly, then collapsed in giggles at her own joke.

Danny cracked a smile. “Hey, that was kind of funny.” His hands were working her feet, releasing the tension from hours in heels.

She sat up on her elbows, and a wide smile lit up her whole face. “Yeah? Do you think?” She found herself caught by Danny’s eyes. They were a deep brown and when his brow wasn't furrowed with his perpetual scowl, they were surprisingly soft.

The ballerina had managed to wrangle control of the stereo, and Act One of Sleeping Beauty blasted out over the entire party.

His smile, too, was a funny kind of sweet. When he grinned, he seemed like the little boy he must have been once, a sweet boy who doted on his mother until she died, tragically, in a candy floss incident, leaving him unable to appreciate joy –

“Hey! My Ma is not dead!” He crossed himself hurriedly. “And candy floss is pure sugar! You may as well write a blank check to your dentist!”

 _Fuck._ She’d been narrating out loud again. “Well, you explain that scowl on your face all the time. Oh my god, what is this music? Who let the ballet geek DJ?”

“I can’t believe it took you this long to notice. It’s been playing for at least five minutes. I half-expected you to tackle the poor girl before the woodwind section came in.”

 

**

  
The party was winding down, and Mindy’s feet hadn't moved from Danny’s lap. Danny was in the middle of a spirited speech regarding New York politicians. Mindy’s head fell to the side and she emitted loud, exaggerated snores.

“Hey! Do you not care about the world around you? These are the people who decide our whole lives!”

“Not at a party, Danny. Or ever, actually. I have a life, you know? Besides, I want to dance! Come dance, loser.”

Mindy stood and held out her hand to him. In her stockings, she was a tiny whirlwind, spinning out into the middle of the room. He stood in the center of her circle, happy just to be in her orbit.

She stopped spinning and stepped closer to him, her face glowing. _If this was a movie_ , she thought, _the music would change right now to something slow and romantic._ She waited a moment, but the fast-paced pop continued blasting. Still, Danny was looking at her, and he had his little-boy smile on again. Her chest rose and fell a little faster than it needed to cope with the exertion of dancing. She saw his gaze flick downwards, then back up to her eyes. The realization caused something to clench deep in her belly, and involuntarily, she caught herself focusing on his lips, which might be the plushest she’d ever seen.

“Did you…” he began, then halted. His brow furrowed slightly, almost as if he were nervous. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, pulling a lopsided grin onto his face. “Want to go outside?”

 

The bonfire was a pile of embers, and a soft orange glow outlined the few people who had stuck around this long. Mindy stood, arms crossed against the cold, and tried desperately to think of something to say. Mindy watched Danny stare into the pile of coals, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his brown leather jacket. Doubt filled her mind. _What if it was all in my head? Maybe he’s just so surly that I can’t tell what friendly looks like on him. Maybe old men like him talk to women differently. Chivalry or something. Oh my god, maybe he’s_ gay –

“Mindy?”

 _Fuck. Again?_ “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to pry!”

“Pry? You were staring at me for a solid minute. I don’t think you've ever had your mouth shut for that long in your life.”

“I wasn't narrating my life?”

“Not that time. Why, what were you thinking about?”

Mindy was extraordinarily grateful for the darkness. If the heat in her cheeks was any indication, she was blushing hard enough to make her train of thought all too clear.

“Mindy? What, were you considering the possibility of a world without Bee-zee-yay?” His tone was amused, but tinged with concern.

Mindy started. “Are you trying to talk about Beyoncé right now?”

“Whatever. I’m not going to keep track of artists just because they’re on those chart things. I like music that’s going to stand the test of time.”

“Excuse you. Beyoncé is a national treasure.” Mindy turned to him, punctuating her point by stabbing him in the chest with a finger. Danny knocked her hand away, gripping her fingers in an attempt to quell the violence. Undaunted, Mindy raised her other hand to pinch him, but was thwarted by his fingers circling her wrist, his other hand releasing her fingers and slipping around her waist.

“Bruce Springsteen is a national treasure,” Danny growled, his hand tightening on the small of her back to pull her flush against him.

Mindy swallowed. Her head was spinning, stomach churning. As she stared up at him, a warmth spread through her. She felt as if she were standing on the precipice of something she didn't quite comprehend. He released her wrist to tangle his fingers with hers and she could feel him leaning into her. The erratic thud of his heart reverberated in her chest and it was somehow reassuring, as though she wasn't alone in feeling the weight of what was about to happen, that something fundamental was about to change.

Danny’s eyes were focused on her mouth once more and she felt his grip on her strengthen, now holding her so close that oxygen was becoming an issue. She felt his breath on her face and closed her eyes, until –

“Danny! Mindy! Where are you two?” Jeremy’s British accent rang out over the backyard.

Danny exhaled with a noise that could have been a groan. His forehead dropped to rest on hers for a split second, then he was releasing her, and Mindy was left only with a sharp sense of loss and a determination to murder all citizens of the United Kingdom, just on principle.

Danny’s voice had a slight catch in it when he responded. “We’re over here, Jeremy. Next to the fire.”

Jeremy wandered over, his arm slung around his ballerina’s shoulders.

“If we want to catch the last train home, we’re going to have to leave now I’m afraid. Are you two ready?”

Mindy had never been less keen to leave New Jersey, but she couldn't for the life of her think of a convincing reason to stay. She looked at Danny, imagining him telling Jeremy where to shove his train, grabbing her and kissing her passionately, but her daydream was cut rudely short by his almost cheerful announcement that he’d go get the coats.

 

**

The train ride home was quiet. Jeremy and Natasha were entwined, heads together, across from Danny and Mindy. Mindy snuck a look at the man beside her and was surprised that for once there was no scowl on his face. He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows, one side of his mouth quirking up into his signature crooked grin.

“Glad to be getting back to civilization?”

“I don’t know,” Mindy grinned, “Some great things have come out of Jersey.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.” Mindy took out her phone and opened Wikipedia with a flourish. “Did you know saltwater taffy was invented in Jersey? I _love_ saltwater taffy, Danny. And the Jonas Brothers live there! Hey, Queen Latifah is actually from Newark, look!”

“Woah, slow down on the enthusiasm.” Danny covered the screen with one hand. Mindy looked up at him to find his gaze locked on her, that stupid smile playing on his lips. He removed the phone from her grasp and reached for her, folding his hand into hers. “We've got time.”


	2. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think thanks are in order to about half this fandom by now for either cheerleading me in this mammoth endeavour or providing me with the Messina porn that inspires my writing so ;)
> 
> I'm sorry I went so long without an update! I was sickety sick. Hopefully the next chapter is a little faster =)
> 
> I own nothing, Mindy Kaling is our Queen, etc etc.

“Whatcha watching?”

Mindy looked up to see Danny leaning against the doorway to the hospital lounge. She turned back to consider the antics on the television. “I have no idea. I've been asleep for most of it, to be honest. They were singing, now she’s crying… It’s either a really awesome reality show or a really terrible movie.”

Danny dropped onto the couch next to her. “It looks terrible. Why is she crying? What, did someone die while she was up on that stage?"

“Danny, that’s so rude!”

“But true.”

“Well, okay, yeah. Why are you here, anyway?”

“I’m on call.”

“You are not. You were bragging before we went to that party that you had today off.”

“Okay, so I’m not.” He raised one eyebrow and gave her a rakish grin which caused her chest to somehow tighten and expand, all at once. He dropped a hand onto her knee. “How much longer are you stuck here for?”

Mindy looked up at the clock on the wall. “Umm… two more hours.”

Danny still hadn't looked away from her. “When you’re done, do you want to go get breakfast?”

 

Mindy’s pager went off, and she cursed the patients in the hospital for actually needing care. She jumped to her feet, busying herself by stuffing her hair into something resembling a ponytail and straightening her scrubs. Danny stood and moved to face her. When she raised her head her eyes widened in shock at how close he was.

“So… breakfast?” His voice was gravel.

She breathed in, her nose filling with the smell of soap, the leather of his jacket and something musky that she was realising was all his. She felt suddenly shy, looking down and biting her lip in a vain attempt to hide the smile creeping across her face. _Oh, what the hell._ She looked straight up at him, letting the grin take over. “Breakfast. Definitely.”

His smile went from crooked to a full grin. “Good. That’s great. I’ll be here.”

 

What the hell was it with this man that with six words he could make the bottom of her stomach drop out? It wasn’t fair how composed he was, how smug that grin on his face seemed to be. Taken by a sudden impulse to even the score, she stepped into his space, close enough to feel the chill of his belt buckle press through her scrubs. Her hands wandered up his chest to rest on his shoulders, steadying her as she rose up on tiptoe. Barely an inch from him now, she brushed her face past his and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His head turned towards her, lips sliding across her cheek, chasing her mouth, but she was gone, stepping away and slipping towards the door. She turned back to look at him. The smile was gone and his eyes were dark, smouldering. She resisted her need to run back to him and let him finish what she started. She was determined, just this once, to be the smug one.

 

**

 

“I still can’t believe you've never had a bear claw.”

“I can’t believe you think bear claws are a legitimate breakfast. You've been on shift all night, you need sustenance! Bacon, eggs. That’s a man’s breakfast.”

Mindy rolled her eyes. “I don’t get why men always have to prove things are manly before they do them. No-one’s going to mistake you for a woman just because you didn't talk about the slaughter of your food before you ate it.”

“Hey, I would never be mistaken for a woman. I am all man. Period.”

Mindy rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“I mean it!” His face was almost fierce with intensity.

“It is really that important to you that I acknowledge your manhood?”

She noticed the tips of his ears turning red. “It is, isn't it? Danny Castellano is insecure about his manliness!” She pinched his arm. “I can’t decide if that’s adorable, hilarious or pathetic.”

“How about determined? Strong minded?” Danny elbowed her and Mindy linked her arm through his, laughing.

“You are such a loser.” She bumped into him and realised he’d stopped outside a grocery store. “What? How do groceries prove your manliness?”

“I told you, you need a proper breakfast.”  
“And what, you’re going to make it for me?”

“I think I can handle bacon and eggs, yeah.”

She pretended for a moment like there was a chance she would turn down any offer of food, then let her bright smile take over her face. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

 

**

 

“No, I told you, you've been on shift all night, this is my treat.” Danny rolled up his sleeves. “Okay, what do we have here?” He started sorting through the bags on the counter. “Bacon, eggs, waffle fixings, syrup, and - hey, when did you sneak these in?” He pulled out a bag of Red Vines and Mindy’s face lit up with joy. She snatched them out of his hands, hopping up on a stool beside the kitchen island, close enough to pretend she was going to be helpful in the cooking process.

 

While Danny cracked eggs into the pan, Mindy ripped open the packet of candy and pulled out a fistful, briefly noting Danny’s amusement at her enthusiasm.

"I need them, Danny! I had a rom-com marathon on my last day off and now there are like, no sweet snacks left in this house except actual sugar. No wait, I went through that too."

"You ate pure sugar? From the bowl?"

"What bowl? Sugar comes in paper packets. And I needed it to survive the emotional trauma of _An Affair To Remember_. You know, I never really appreciated how lucky I was to grow up as part of the Nora Ephron generation. We're so spoiled, with all these movies that have heart without being emotionally devastating. I don't know how your generation coped with movies like that one." She fished in the packet for another Red Vine and made a face when she realised how few were left. "Cary Grant was pretty hot for an old man, though."

"My generation? That movie is from the 50s!"

"Oh please, grandpa. Like you don't still have a rotary telephone."

Danny's mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Mindy once again found herself forced to stare at his lips. He huffed and turned back to the frying pan. "I don't see what my telephone has to do with this. "

Mindy squealed with delight. "Oh my god, you actually have one? I have to see it!"

 

Danny took the pan off the burner and turned to her, smiling. His voice had dropped an octave when he finally spoke. "Yeah? We'll have to see if we can arrange that."

Mindy swallowed. Suddenly the room was suffocating. She was sure she could feel Danny's body heat even from where she was sitting, and when he stepped closer to her, his face intent, she was certain of it.

"Well, you know, someone should document your apartment. For like, historical purposes. Aren't there places that collect like, old things? Museums. Museums would love your telephone. So I would just be, like, performing a public service." Mindy was increasingly aware that she was babbling, but she couldn't stop herself. He was standing so close to her, eyes locked on her mouth, nodding mindlessly like he wasn't even processing what she was talking about.

 

She felt suddenly panicked. She wasn't ready for whatever this was turning into. She barely even dated. And he was like, _older_. Okay, if she was very honest, it was like, five years, ten tops. But still. He probably had _experience_. And all she had, apart from an awkward college relationship and an obsession with Meg Ryan movies, was this ball of heat clenched in the pit of her stomach. A ball telling her that she was already in far deeper than she should be after one night at a party and the promise of bacon. And every second he stared at her, his fingers casually playing with the ends of her hair like this was their normal, like he made her breakfast every morning; every second that this felt like her actual life she was falling deeper.

 

Danny had stopped nodding. He softened, somehow, the shadow of a smile ghosting across his face. He shifted so he was standing between her legs, relaxing into her. Hands on her shoulders, he skimmed down her arms, one hand reaching around and dancing up her spine, releasing tension she didn't even know she was carrying. His other hand moved to rest on her thigh, squeezing gently. His breath was hot on her face, causing her mind to go suddenly blank, her insides twisting, until his words from the night before echoed in her mind.  _We've got time_. The ball in her stomach suddenly unknotted and she melted, arms slipping up around his neck to slide into his hair, pulling his mouth the last inch to reach hers.

 

He was soft and leisurely, taking his time. His lips nibbled at hers, his fingers massaging the nape of her neck until her muscles felt so loose she could barely hold her head up for him to kiss. He seemed to know how talented he was; she could feel him grin under her lips and couldn't help but bite his lip in retaliation.

 

That seemed to spark something in him, because all of a sudden he hardened against her, the muscles in his arms strengthening around her torso, hands expanding across her back to pull her close. His tongue licked into her mouth, tasting, testing. She was aware of his hands sliding down her sides, felt them grip her thighs and yank her towards him, closing all distance. She gasped; he swallowed it. Her fingers contracted in his hair, grasping at handfuls of the short curls and he let out a sound that shocked her in its vulnerability.

 

He was kissing her so deeply, hands cradling her face. His hips ground into her, knocking her stool back onto two legs to pin her against the kitchen island. She wrapped her legs around him for stability, letting her fingers explore the muscles of his back. When she reached his waistband, she felt that ball in her stomach contract, intensify, and unfurl through her, spreading heat down her legs, up her chest, and she was suddenly very _very_ aware of where this was going. Her eyes sprang open, she stilled.

 

Danny pulled back slowly, eyes heavy-lidded and lips so plush Mindy had to physically stop herself from diving back in again. The sweetest smile she’d ever seen crept across his face. His thumb was sweeping lazily across her cheek. He kissed her softly, then rested his head against hers. He kissed her once more, lingering this time, and Mindy felt her worry seep out of her. Her hand lifted to rest on his chest, playing idly with the second button on his shirt.

 

“I think breakfast might be cold.” She looked over his shoulder at the pan. “And congealed. Danny, I hope you don’t think I’m eating that.”

He hummed, and his hands reached around to lace together behind her back. “Breakfast is a pointless meal. I’ve never liked it. All that fussing around with pans first thing in the morning. Who needs it?”

Mindy found herself giggling, nodding along with his hypocrisy. “Is that so?”

“I’m just saying, get some whole wheat flakes, be done with it. People get too fancy.”

“Keep it simple.”

“That’s right.”

“Like… a bear claw, for instance?”

“No.”

“Or… Red Vines? A packet of Red Vines is very simple.”

“You’re twisting my words!”

“I am expanding your culinary horizons.”

 

Mindy heard a key in the front door and turned around. Danny had already stepped away and by the time her roommate Megan got past the four locks on the door she could hear him scraping the congealed eggs into the trash.

“Gah! Are all these locks really necessary, Min?”

Danny looked up from the trash can and caught sight of Megan. Something flitted over his face before it slammed shut, and Mindy saw his patented scowl arranging itself on his brow.

Mindy looked at Megan, who was pulling in a mountain of shopping bags.

“Meeegan, you know how freaked out I got after that guy moved in on the first floor! He looks _just like_ \- “

“That guy from that episode of _SVU_ , I know, I know. But remember how we had that whole conversation about how _SVU_ isn't real? Maybe he’s the actor who played him.”

“Everyone knows actors draw upon their real life experiences! How did he play a serial murderer so convincingly, huh?”

Megan was dead-bolting the door. “You are, as always, flawlessly logical,” she commented dryly, “but I really don’t think - Oh. Hi, Danny. Dr. Castellano.”

“Dr. Lindtveldt.”

 

Mindy glanced between them, suddenly wondering if Danny’s scowl wasn't just habit in this instance, but maybe - what? She looked back at Megan: tall, slender, blonde. Cheekbones which could cut you. Her stomach flipped unpleasantly. She thought back to a few minutes ago, when Danny was smiling at her, playing with her hair, and looked at him now, shuttered, hands crossed over his chest. He wasn't looking at her; he wasn't flirting. All her insecurities came flooding back.

 

“You know, Mindy, I've gotta go.” He started rushing to put the groceries they’d bought in her fridge, apparently unconcerned with whether or not they belonged there. Mindy darted in to save her second packet of Red Vines from his sudden burst of efficiency, resting her hand on his as he tried to find a place for the syrup.

“You’re leaving? Now?”

 

He glanced down at her hand on his and slipped his out from under it. He turned, took the now empty paper bags and folded them, placing them on her counter.

“Yeah, I've got errands. There’s a shelf in my apartment, it fell, needs fixing. And I gotta call my Ma.”

“Danny, you have to call your mother? That’s so sweet!” She reached out to touch his arm, hoping she was toeing the line between adorably interested and desperate.

His lips twitched, he glanced at her with something like shyness. “Yeah, well, I can’t always get out there, you know?” Then he looked at Megan and Mindy saw that almost-smile freeze. He almost bolted for his jacket, shoving his arms into the sleeves.

“Good to see you again, Dr. Lindtveldt.”

“Yeah. You too.”

 

Danny patted his pockets to make sure he had everything, and looked at Mindy one last time. “You’re at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I am.” Mindy had no idea what was happening. She was used to crotchety, scowly Danny. That was par for the course, even if she’d seen a whole other side of him this weekend. But he wasn't grumpy now - he was _awkward_. And it had something to do with her roommate. She looked at Megan, who was studiously unlocking their front door. Her stomach flipped again, crawling up into her throat.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you then.” He breathed in, like there was something else to say, then thought better of it. He gave a half-hearted smile and walked out. One by one, Mindy watched Megan bolt all four of those damn locks behind him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful feedback on the first chapter. I read all of it and squealed, it made me so happy! As always, reviews are the air I breathe and I love you all.


	3. Breech

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to Ambrosia Jones for going through and carefully rewriting every Australian expression I accidentally used. As much translator as beta, but she was also responsible for correcting all the errors in this absolute mess and convincing me it was not quite as horrifically terrible as I was convinced it was.

“So Danny Castellano was here.”

Megan approached the counter and put down her purse carefully. Mindy looked up from scrubbing her pan. There was something in Megan’s expression, a hardness to the curiosity, and it made her defensive. All of a sudden, her weekend with Danny felt private, in need of protection.

“Mindy? Dr. Castellano was in our kitchen.” Megan repeated the implied question, and Mindy's shoulders curled around herself, as though her posture was enough to shield this weekend from Megan's brittle nosiness.

“He walked me home after my shift. We were hungry, so…” Mindy shrugged and indicated the dishes in the sink.

“He walked you home?” Megan didn’t try to hide her surprise. “Or, wait - do you mean he _walked_ you _home_?” Megan wiggled her eyebrows, smiling wolfishly. Mindy scrubbed harder, trying to scrape off the congealed breakfast. “Come on, Mindy, spill! There is clearly gossip here.”

“No gossip!” Mindy dragged a smile onto her face to match Megan’s. “We were chatting, and I didn’t get to eat on my shift. He was just being friendly.”

“Danny Castellano isn’t friendly. Not to mention,” Megan paused, as though what she was about to say was scandalous. “Mindy, technically he’s your boss.”

Mindy snorted. “Finishing his residency a couple years ahead of us doesn’t make him our boss.”

“He’s an attending,” Megan retorted, doggedly.

“Anyone I’ve had to compete with for the right perform rectal exams is not my boss.”

“Okay, okay.” Megan sat down on the kitchen stool and started rifling through mail. The sound of Mindy scrubbing ineffectually at the pan filled the room, until the rhythmic scraping actually began to sound like the words clouding Mindy’s mind. _How does she know him?_ _Does she like,_ know him _know him?_ _How did I not know about this? How long did it go on for? How did it end?_

Mindy stopped scrubbing and looked up at the wall above the sink. Deep breath. After all, she had no idea what had actually happened. What was her fear even based on? Danny being a grump? He yelled at a guy in the lunch line the other day because he was taking too long to choose his meal. Danny being closed off? He wouldn’t even let the hospital have his address, and he’d worked there for years. Danny snatching his hand away from hers? Danny saying he’ll “see her at work”? Danny running for the hills the second someone else saw them together?

“I’m just going to… this needs to soak. I’ll leave it.” Mindy dropped the pan into the sink, splashing sudsy water down the front of her top. “Crap.”

Megan looked up and dissolved into laughter. “I like it. Drowned rat is an excellent look on you.”

“That is very rude. Urgh, Megan, look! The red is bleeding into the white!”

“Mindy, how many times do I have to tell you? Wash your red polka dot things in cold - “

“Salt water, yes, thank you, I remember. But the college kid I pay to do my laundry had no idea what I was talking about, and you always complain when I take over the sink to wash things!”

“Because you use it as an excuse to not do the dishes, Mindy. You’re all like 'oh this top _needs_ soaking for four days!'”

“It said ‘extended soak’, okay?”

“Did it? Or did your need to marathon all of Sex and the City say that?”

“How else am I supposed to plan my future as a single woman in Manhattan?”

“So you’re sticking to that plan?”

“What? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, no reason. You’re right. Clearly Danny - Dr. Castellano - just came up here to make breakfast because you guys are like, besties or something.” Megan rolled her eyes at the thought.

“I literally just told you why he was here.”

“Right. I interrupted nothing when I got home.”

“No,” Mindy swallowed, suddenly unable to look up from her shirt. “Nothing.”

“You are a terrible liar, Lahiri.”

“Excuse me, I am a master of intrigue, okay. Anyway, why do you even care?”

“You know what? Fine. Here it is: Danny Castellano is a player, okay? You're all smitten and you think he's _so_ into you, that you’ll be the exception. But guess what? You aren't different, and you aren't special. He'll sleep with you and ditch you just like he does every other girl."

Mindy gaped. "Danny Castellano? Grumpy, old man, ‘Not too good for the Island’ Castellano?"

"You don't have to believe me. But next time you're on a shift with him, just watch how he is with you when other people are around. You’ll see."

Mindy suppressed a scream of frustration. What the hell did Megan know about Danny? She felt a ridiculous urge to throw the wet sponge in her hand at her roommate’s perfect blonde hair. As she battled with her instincts, an image shoved through her anger: Danny, bolting out the door like he'd been caught red handed. His face when Megan came home. She chanced a look at Megan, who clearly knew why she was being so quiet. The other woman’s face glowed triumphantly. Bile rose in Mindy’s throat and she knew the stress barfs were coming. The first dry retch was a gift. Megan bolted for her bedroom, revolted, and Mindy retreated to the safety of the bathroom to cry in peace.

*****

The insistent buzz of Mindy’s alarm was more than enough to convince her that the new day wasn’t going to beat the old one. She found herself tip-toeing around the house so as not to wake Megan, and the knowledge that she didn’t have the guts to be in the same room as her roommate only cemented her bad mood. The only advantage to early rising was that for once, she actually had enough time before her shift to sit in the cafeteria with her coffee instead of pouring it down her throat while running headlong towards rounds. Her scrubs might even stay clean until after her first patient today, she reflected, and the thought brought a tiny spark of light into her morning.

Then she saw Danny at a table across the room, and that spot of light took over her whole chest, an involuntary smile splitting her face. She was about to call out to him when a woman in scrubs appeared to sit down across from him, placing two coffees on the table. Mindy stilled, suddenly uncertain. The woman said something, Danny laughed, nodding along as he stirred his coffee. Mindy was starting to feel like a stalker, staring openly at the two of them from across the cafeteria. Colleagues, friends or more? _Colleagues, friends or more?_ She sighed, frustrated. There was absolutely no way to tell.

_Screw this_ , she thought. She stood, drained the last of her coffee and walked to the trash can to toss the paper cup away. She was a strong, confident doctor. She didn’t need to follow Danny around the hospital all day, guessing at his relationship with every woman he spoke to. Unless...no. She could not end another potential relationship with a restraining order. At a certain point guys stopped finding it cute. Still, if she happened to be in his vicinity, there was surely no harm in _observing_. That was normal. She turned back around, glancing in Danny’s direction. A heartstopping smile stretched across his face as he took a sip from his coffee. _Fuck. Get a grip, Lahiri. You are going to leave. Right now, you are going to find yourself a woman in labour and you are going to yank that tiny human out of her like you are the stork itself. You are a strong, confident, professional woman. You are a_ doctor _, for fuck’s sake._

Mindy felt her shoulders straighten, the anxiety over Danny ebbing out of her as she focused on one of the few things she truly understood. _Find new mother, yank out baby._ She smiled to herself. _You and Danny will be fine._

*****

Hours later, she walked out of a delivery room with a huge grin on her face, only to see Danny leaning against the counter at the nurse’s station. All anxiety had fled while she was assisting the new mother, and the clench of uncertainty at the sight of him gave way to the joy she felt just looking at his stupid face.

“Danny! There you are!”

Danny looked up from the chart he was frowning at. His face broke into a smile, a glance at the nurses seated at the computer in the corner and the light in his eyes began to fade. He looked back to her, uncertain. The ball in her gut tightened, but she dismissed it. He had to be feeling awkward after the way he’d left her house the night before. All he needed was to know that all was forgiven.

“I haven’t seen you all day. No scoping out the doctor’s lounge this morning, huh?”

His eyes widened and flicked to the nurses again. He cleared his throat.

“Dr. Lahiri. I heard you had a breech to deal with this morning. How did it go?”

She decided to ignore his awkwardness and open him up with her patented Lahiri Man Trap.

_Step One: Wear him down with a long-winded, but charming story._

“Oh my god, Danny, it was amazing. Dr. Rhodes let me handle almost the entire thing, and I _killed_. It was life-changing. I am now officially prepared for my destiny.”

Despite his efforts at stoicism, a grin crept onto Danny’s face, and she knew she had him.

“Your destiny?”

“As OBGYN to the queen, Danny.”

“The… Queen of England? Have you been hanging out with Jeremy again? I keep telling you, Mindy, we got rid of that family for a reason – “

“God no, that old bag? Please. I mean the only queen that matters: Queen Bey.”

“You’re talking about that Beyoncé again, aren’t you?”

“Oh wow, Danny, you got her name right! I knew I was a good influence on you.”

_Step Two: Establish physical contact._

She nudged him with her elbow. He glanced back at the nurses, who were still focused on their computer screen, and shifted uncomfortably.

“Anyway, so obviously Beyoncé and Jay Z are going to get married.”

Danny crinkled his brow. “Jay Z is a rapper, right?”

Mindy rolled her eyes. “And when they do, they will not be able to keep their hands off each other. I mean, two people that hot? She’ll be pregnant by the end of the honeymoon. That’s just, like, physics.”

“Physics.”

Mindy nodded enthusiastically. “Right, and so she’ll hire some crazy famous OBGYN to the stars who has like, a diamond encrusted speculum or whatever. But then, she’s in New York because her husband is touring, and she’ll obviously attend all of his shows, sitting on a custom made throne next to the stage. And right when Jay Z is performing 99 Problems, the bass will cause her water to break. And oh no! Her OBGYN is in LA, attending to Reese Witherspoon, and, disaster, Bey’s baby is breech! It’s an emergency! They need a doctor, and who just happens to be in the front row of the concert?” Mindy gestured to herself, batting her eyelashes in a way she knew was adorable.

“Oh, boy.”

“That’s right, none other than Dr. Mindy Lahiri, M.D., the Breech Baby Whisperer.”

Danny dragged one hand down his face. “How much longer does this story go on for? I have two C-sections scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Hey, mister. I am telling you about the most important moment of my life. Cancel your C-sections.”

“Why is Dr. Castellano cancelling his surgeries?” A dry voice cut across their conversation, and Danny’s face took on the stoic expression he saved for their Chief of Surgery.

“I’m not.” He turned to Mindy, pointing emphatically. “I would not. Okay, Dr. Lahiri? Stop that.”

“Okay, calm down, loser.” She rapped the back of her fist lightly against his arm. “I was joking, sort of.”

“Dr. Lahiri, did I just hear you call your superior a ‘loser’?”

Mindy could see her Man Trap unravelling just as she’d been about to move to _Step Three: Announce Need for Coffee_. She scrambled to get the situation back under control.

“Oh, Dr. Lawson, it’s just Danny. He doesn’t mind, right Danny?”

Danny looked around nervously, seemingly hyperaware of their audience as Dr. Lawson and the two nurses looked at him expectantly.

“Dr. Lahiri, I really don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be calling me by my first name.” His voice was gruff, his eyes focused with worrying intensity on the pen he was rolling in his fingers. Mindy’s eyes widened in shock and she took a deep breath, preparing to tell him in no uncertain terms what she thought of him, but he was already charging on, the pen a blur in his hand. “I mean, I don’t think a little respect is too much to ask for, is it doctor? I _am_ your attending.”

“Dr. Lahiri, I’d say you owe Dr. Castellano an apology.”

Mindy gritted her teeth and jutted her chin out at Danny, eyebrows raised. “An apology?”

Danny faced her, face now composed behind his patented smug expression. “Nothing big, just so we know you’re, you know, committed to professionalism.”

“Professionalism. Yes. I am a professional, and technically you _are_ my boss, aren't you, Dr. Castellano? It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

Danny’s eyes widened and she could see the wheels start to turn.

“I apologise, Dr. Castellano. Sincerely.” Turning on her heel, she strode off, praying she looked cool and detached rather than humiliated.

Outside the hospital, she collapsed on a bench, resting her head in her hands. A groan of frustration leaked out of her as the conversation replayed itself in her head. Her cheeks burned. He’d just _let_ Dr. Lawson chew her out, which was bad enough, but then to join in? He’d made her look like an idiot, and unprofessional besides. More than that, there was something about the whole conversation which had been eerily familiar, and it was causing the weight in the pit of her stomach to make an uncomfortable reappearance.

The answer hit her, and she stood up, livid. He’d used the same tone with her that he had with Megan the night before. _“Dr. Lindtveldt.”_ She remembered the expression on his face, the implicit brush-off. If she’d ever needed evidence that they’d slept together, this had to be it. He’d fucked her, and now he avoided the awkwardness by acting like she was being unprofessional. The _sleaze_.

She went storming back into the hospital, making her way to the maternity wing in record time. The nurse’s station was empty and Danny was now leaning on the wall outside a supply closet, glancing through a chart. She halted in front of him, mouth full of four-letter words, but he raised his head and smiled, eyes brightening at the sight of her. He checked that the nurses were gone, then grabbed her hand. Before she could say a word, he’d yanked her into the supply closet. He closed the door behind them, eyes hopeful.

“I’m glad you’re back. I was worried I’d upset you before, with the Chief around.”

"You were...worried?” Mindy was confused. He was looking at her, eyes sweet, and her hand was still clasped in his.

“Yeah, I mean… I know I ran off last night, and then, just now, with the - with the - you know.”

“You mean making me apologise for treating you like - “

“- A friend. Yeah.”

Mindy let the silence hang for a second, trying to convince herself to let it lie, but it was no good.

“Is that what we are, Danny? Are we friends?”

“We’re…” He reached out for her other hand and grasped it, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want…” His eyes flicked down to her mouth and he reflexively licked his lips.

Mindy ignored the skittering in her stomach at the sight, pulling her hands from his.

“No, it’s not that you don’t _want_. You just don’t want anyone to _know_.”

He shrugged helplessly. “Mindy, this is where we work. And, the people here, they never stop talking, and I can’t be… “ He trailed off.

“But why is that such a bad thing, Danny? Why is it so bad if people think we’re together? Or - friends. Whatever. What are you worried is going to happen?”

Danny crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m not worried, okay? But I’m a private person. I don’t like people in my business, and this is my place of work. I don’t need the nurses running around telling their little stories about me.”

“See, I don’t think they tell enough stories about you.”

Danny frowned, confused. “What?”

“What happened with Megan, Danny?”

Danny sighed, exasperated. “Dr. Lindtveldt? Your roommate?” That tone had crept back into his voice, and Mindy suddenly remembered why she was mad at him.

“Yes. Megan Lindtveldt. My roommate. The girl who had you running for the hills last night. The one who also had the audacity to call you by your first name in public.” Mindy was right in his face, hissing at him in an attempt to keep her voice low.

“Are you asking me if I slept with your roommate? What the hell did she tell you?”

“She told me to be careful.”

Danny laughed, a sharp, mirthless sound. “Yeah, I’ll bet she did.”

He was looking straight into her eyes, and she could see him debating something in his mind. He shook his head.

“You know what? I don’t need this.” He pushed past her and out the door, closing it soundly behind him.

Mindy stared at the door, her sense of righteousness seeping out of her. Her limbs were heavy, and she had this horrible persistent sensation, like there was some aspect to this whole situation she hadn’t taken into account. She pushed it aside. She still had four hours of this shift to go, and that meant four more hours to practice for Queen Bey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter for me to write, to the point where I had several others in almost-postable shape (including the last chapter, of all things) before I'd written 300 words of this one. I hated it for a very long time, and wrote and rewrote it until it felt like it was representing these characters as they would have been this many years ago. I really hope it seems to fit.
> 
> So I'm sorry for the wait. This is my first fic and I am making a lot of mistakes along the way, some of which take a lot of time and the expertise of several of the awesome writers in this fandom to correct! It's been a huge amount of fun and an awesome learning experience, but yes, has meant slow updates this time!


	4. Meatballs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look! It's an update that wasn't months in the making! I was going to hold off an extra day or two before posting in order to not get your hopes up too high that this might become a regular thing, but I COULDN'T WAIT. I have no patience.
> 
> As always, thanks be to all the people I harass to help me with this story, specifically Ambrosia Jones this time around for her tireless beta work. I have a very patient, talented group of friends and this would not exist without them.
> 
> I own nothing, etc etc.

If there was one thing that Mindy couldn't stand, it was parties filled with stuffy old doctors with terrible taste in smooth jazz and finger foods. She assessed the buffet table, head cocked critically.

 

“There are far too many vegetables for this to be a decent party. And why is this dip purple?”

“It’s olive tapenade.” Jeremy sighed at her ignorance.

“It smells like feet, and the colour is frankly false advertising. Everyone knows purple things should be grape flavoured. Preferably with no actual grapes.”

“Mindy, sometime I would love to take you out and show you the finer things in life.”

“I’ll bet you would, you perv.” She knocked him with her elbow and turned away from the disappointing selection.

“Not what I meant.” He raised his eyebrows, dragging his eyes up and down her figure. “Although…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mindy took a sip of her wine and grimaced. Jeremy was hot and all, but she had enough lying dirtbags in her life this week.

“Speaking of…” she muttered, catching sight of Danny across the room.

 

They hadn’t spoken since he’d stormed out of the doctor’s lounge several days ago, and from the way his scowl deepened at the sight of her, that was for the best. He took a long swig of beer, eyes fixed on hers, and she hated the way her stomach fluttered, hated that she could feel heat swirling deep in her belly even when his face looked like murder. She shook off the pain building in her chest, turning back to Jeremy.

“Where were we?”

“I was sweeping you off your feet with my devastating charm and perfect teeth.”

“Urgh. You're the worst. But damn it, I think you might have been.”

“Oh yes?” Jeremy moved closer, and Mindy hated the part of herself that found his sleaziness attractive.

“Oh my god. Why is this working? It has to be the accent.”

“Indubitably.” He cleared his throat. “So, did you want to find somewhere… quieter?”

Mindy scanned the room for eavesdroppers, scandalised. “Jeremy! _Here?_ ”

“Why not?” He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “You are looking stunning, I am always handsome, and this party could do with some livening up.”

“Okay, way too far, buddy.” She placed a hand in the centre of his chest, shoving him lightly.

“What’s too far?” Danny had materialised by her side, eyes black. She froze at the sight of him, trying to recapture the bravery she’d felt just a few moments before.

Danny shoved between them, grabbing a plate from the buffet table and loading it up mindlessly.

“Danny! Don’t push! It’s rude.”

Danny turned his head towards her. “You know what’s rude, is you two all over each other in a public forum. _And_ you’re in the way of the food.”

Jeremy chuckled lightly. “I hardly think we were all over each other, Danny. Maybe for one as inexperienced as you -”

“Hey! I have plenty of experience, okay? Just because I have a sense of discretion -” he turned to Mindy at this, finger pointed at her face “- does not mean I don’t have options.”

“Okay, I think I've heard enough about your options this week, thanks.” Mindy smacked his hand away with more force than necessary, lip curling in distaste.

 

“Why do I feel like this conversation doesn't really have anything to do with me?” Mindy started a little at the dryness in Jeremy’s voice. She realised with a slight surge of guilt that she’d forgotten he was even there.

Danny’s eyes widened like he’d been caught, but as far as Mindy was concerned, he’d already given up his supposed love for discretion.

“It doesn't, Jeremy. Go away.” She felt bad for snapping at him, and felt worse when she saw his butt as he walked away.

“Really? You told him to leave and now you’re telling me about his butt? What the hell is with you, Lahiri?”

“Stop eavesdropping on my inner monologue, you creep. Anyway, it happens to be a very nice butt.”

“What? That’s not even…” Danny exhaled forcefully, raising his hands in defeat. “I give up.” He shoved a cracker loaded with tapenade into his mouth and winced. “This tastes like feet.”

“Thank you! That’s what I said!”

 

Danny scooped a healthy dollop of hummus onto another cracker and popped it into his mouth. He looked at her sideways, chewing thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say something, then reconsidered. Sick of waiting for whatever barb he was going to throw at her next, Mindy began piling her plate with the least offensive nibbles she could find.

 

“Here.” Danny dropped a stack of yellow crackers onto her plate. She looked up at him in surprise, and he shrugged. “They’re cheese flavoured. Mostly salt and fat. Just your kind of thing.” He attempted a rakish grin, but his eyes were a puppy’s after it’s been smacked with a newspaper.

“Thank you.” She offered him a tentative smile, nibbling at a cracker.

His grin strengthened into something cocky, but Mindy didn't miss the way his shoulders sagged in relief.

“You’re welcome.” He leaned back against the table, sucking on his fingers to clean off the last of the dip. “I can’t believe they made this thing mandatory.”

“I can’t believe I am spending another weekend with people I work with. I have actual friends, you know.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re very popular.”

“I mean it! I had plans to catch up with Gwen before Dr. Lawson told all the residents they had to come to this stupid thing. I haven’t seen her in like a month, Danny. She’s all engaged or whatever.”

“Isn't that a good thing?”

“How? Carl’s rich and she loves him and the rest of her life is going to be perfect. It’s disgusting.”

“Sounds it.” Danny was loading up a plate with mini meatballs.

“Hey, leave some for the rest of us.”

“I saw your plate earlier. You've had plenty.”

“Okay, it is very rude to police a woman’s food choices. Didn't your mother teach you manners?”

“Don’t talk about my mom, okay? That woman is a hero. You don’t get to talk about my mom.”

“Oh my god, you are such a drama queen. All I'm saying is don’t hog the only decent food at this stupid party.”

 

Mindy reached out with her fork and stabbed one of the meatballs on his plate, shoving it into her mouth with a grin. She reached out to grab a second one, but Danny swatted her hand away and suddenly they were tussling, Danny holding the plate above his head while Mindy jumped for it, hanging onto his shoulder for support.

“Danny! I need them!”

“You need vegetables. Have one of the crudités.”

“I cannot eat carrot sticks like I am some kind of rabbit. My metabolism is too high, Danny! I’ll faint!”

“That’s low blood sugar, which you probably have because all you eat is high fructose corn syrup. If you don’t watch out, you’re going to end up with diabetes.”

“Oh, will I, _doctor?_ Danny!” she whined. She jumped one last time, grabbing the edge of the plate, but it slipped and meatballs rained over them both. Danny tried to duck out of the way. He stumbled backwards, attempting to avoid the meatballs on the floor and still keep the plate out of Mindy’s grasp. Mindy’s left hand was fisted in the lapel of his suit, her right arm reaching out for the food, and as Danny stumbled she was pulled with him, the two of them smashing into the trestle table behind them. She heard the crash of dishes knocked to the ground, but Danny’s hand was around her waist, steadying her or preventing her efforts, and suddenly she was blind to anything but his face.

 

She could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, quick but strong. The thin cotton did nothing to dampen his body heat, and he was a furnace when she let her right hand drop, slipping under his jacket to rest on his hip. She found herself breathing him in, trying to memorise the smell of his soap, his deodorant, and the slight musk underneath it all, the sweat she couldn't believe she’d ever complained about. His expression, filled with annoyance only moments before, had softened, and the depth in his eyes was making her stomach flip, her heart pound in her ears. She knew she couldn't trust him. She knew the smell of him, the sight of those lips, it didn't erase anything. No matter how good his hand felt rubbing circles on her back, the two of them were still a mess. He put the plate down behind him on the table, reaching out to brush ground beef out of her hair, and she cursed internally when she felt her knees buckle.

 

“Mindy, my god, will you ever get through an entire party without spilling half the buffet table down your dress?” Jeremy had appeared out of nowhere once again, and Mindy was irrationally convinced his constant interruptions were deliberate. She turned to retort that she looked amazing with meatballs smashed into her attire, but Danny’s hands instinctively held her fast, the tips of his fingers digging into her waist. His eyes were trained on Jeremy, something aggressive flitting across his features. Jeremy took a step back, eyes narrowing at Danny’s sudden possessiveness.

“I think it may be time for me to take my leave. Mindy?”

“Yes. Right. I’ll see you at work! It was good to, you know, socialise or whatever.” She flapped a hand at him in farewell, knowing she was being rude again. She didn't care. Not even about that butt.

“Indeed.” Jeremy looked up to the heavens in consternation and it occurred to her that the inner monologue had probably become outer again. She didn't care about that either. “Well, I should find my coat. Danny.” Jeremy nodded a farewell in Danny’s direction, pointedly ignoring the storm brewing in Danny’s eyes.

 

As soon as he’d left, Danny let go of Mindy’s waist, turning away from her.

“You could have gone with him, you know.”

“What? Why would I have done that?” Mindy’s brain was still only semi-functional, most of it devoted to internally screaming a demand for his hands to return to their home on her waist.

“So you two could continue whatever the hell I walked in on before.”

“Are you seriously telling me to go off with another guy ten seconds after you were pawing me with your giant hands? What is with you?”

“I'm just saying, you should do what you want. Or who you want.” Danny's lip curled into a sneer.

“Wait, are you still upset about earlier? He was just messing around, Danny. Are you that insecure that you need to resort to slut-shaming me over a little harmless flirting?”

“Harmless? He’d all but dragged you into a coat closet.”

“Oh my god. Firstly, as if I would ever have sex in a coat closet, Danny. That is so unhygienic. Secondly, I can’t believe that you think just because Jeremy might want all of this, he’s going to get it. Everyone wants this, Danny. I am crazy bangable hot. And thirdly, I am really struggling to work out how any of this is your business, since you made it so very clear that we were just friends. Or wait, was it just colleagues? I can’t keep track of how ashamed of me you are.”

“I’ve already explained that!”

“Right. Discretion. Until some other guy expresses even a vague interest, and suddenly you’re everywhere with your stupid big hands all over me and hogging all the meatballs. You want everything on your terms, Danny. You want me around when it’s convenient, but you don’t want to have to actually admit to people that you might not hate me.”

“Well I'm sorry if I'm not willing to subject myself to the hospital rumour mill for a woman who’ll jump at the first guy she thinks is a bigger prize.”

“So you’re allowed to fuck my roommate, but I'm not allowed to casually flirt with a guy even after a week of you giving me the cold shoulder? Even after you said you were _done?_ I’m just trying to be clear on the rules here, Danny. How long am I expected to wait around for you to make up your mind?”

 

She could see the blood rising up Danny’s neck, staining his cheeks and ears a deep scarlet. His eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted, holding back whatever curse he wanted to throw at her.

 

She spied Jeremy, coat over one arm, striding towards the front door.

“You know what, Danny? I don’t need an answer to that. I have - how did you put it? A bigger prize to jump at. Hey, Jeremy!” She called out across the room. He turned and waved at her, a puzzled smile on his face. She walked up to him, letting her hips swing.

 

“Think we could share a cab?”

 

**

She knew as soon as she walked out the door that it was a mistake. Jeremy was hot, for sure, but she’d never actually had a one night stand, and she was well aware that was what Jeremy was expecting.

 

He’d hailed a cab and was holding the door for her, and Mindy found herself climbing into the back seat, gut churning. Jeremy leaned forward to give the driver his address, then relaxed back into the seat, arms spanning the length of the backrest. He started telling a story about the first time he’d tried to hail a cab in Manhattan, chuckling at the recollection, but Mindy was a thousand miles away and it didn't take him long to notice.

 

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, pressing her lips into a tight smile. She stared out the window, a bitter taste collecting at the back of her throat as the reality of her evening washed over her.

“I have no intention of trying anything unless you want to, you know.”

Her head snapped around in shock at Jeremy’s direct acknowledgement of why they were in a cab together.

“I'm promiscuous, not a complete wanker. When I sleep with a woman, it’s important to me that she _really_ wants to be there.” He winked, and Mindy made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes. “If you’re going to skip straight to feeling uncomfortable and guilty, we may as well have my parents’ marriage.”

“What?”

“The whole point of all of this is to make the most of connecting with people without all of that emotional baggage. Without feeling like I owe anyone anything, or like I'm owed anything for that matter.”

“Jeremy, that is the least romantic thing I have ever heard. Don’t you want to find someone you love?”

“Why, when I can find so many someones I like instead?” The cab pulled up to the kerb, and Jeremy peered out the window. “This is me. Will you be alright finding your way home?”

Mindy nodded, chewing over what he’d said.

“Wonderful. And Mindy? If you do decide to let go of the strings, you know where to find me.” He slammed the cab door and hit the roof to let the driver know it was safe to move.

Mindy sighed. It was a pity, because all she wanted in her future were strings.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful comments, especially after that last chapter was such a mindfuck to get finished. I read every comment over and over, even if I don't always have time to reply. You're all the best, and I am lucky to have you.


	5. Maturity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual thanks go to my beta Ambrosia, who is always there to translate and cheerlead.
> 
> Also thanks to all of you for you endless sweet, kind comments. You make my day and keep me writing.
> 
> I own nothing, etka, etka.

Mindy was late for brunch. She’d spent the past two weeks falling asleep at three in the morning after rage-eating entire pints of ice cream. This morning she’d woken up 10 minutes after she was supposed to leave, cuddling the empty tub and with a candy bar melted into her hair. So really, the fact that she was so late was entirely Danny’s fault, and she made a mental note to add it to her list of reasons she would be giving him the silent treatment for the next millenium.

 

Still, she wasn’t sure her reasoning would cut it with Gwen, not after she’d cancelled on her to go to that stupid hospital thing with its stupid fucking meatballs. And Gwen was a stickler for punctuality, as Mindy had learned the hard way in college when she’d been late for the first meeting of their study group. No, to get sympathy from Gwen, you had to be truly pathetic.

 

With that in mind, Mindy stopped to consider herself in a particularly reflective shop window. She raked a hand through her hair, teasing it a little until it was suitably ruffled. Her eyeliner was a little too well applied, but a Q-tip found in the depths of her handbag left her artfully smudged. Her outfit was spectacular, there was nothing she could do about that, but at least now she looked like she had rolled out of bed and stumbled down here with only her impeccable fashion sense to protect her from the cruelty of the world.

 

She arrived at the trendy cafe and saw Gwen sitting at the window, two drinks on the table that hopefully had alcohol mixed into the juice. Gwen’s manicure was drumming against the wood of the table in her classic gesture of impatience. Mindy quickly unzipped her bag, dragged a few items out to fall haphazardly from the lip of the leather and quickly puffed in air to make it look like she’d run from the subway. The moment of truth. She ran inside, slamming the door open dramatically.

 

Gwen looked gratifyingly shocked. _Success._

“Mindy, what happened?”

“What? Nothing! Why would you think something happened?” Mindy adopted an expression that said she _just didn’t want to talk about it_ , which wasn’t difficult since she actually didn’t.

“Your hair looks like it hasn’t seen your flat iron in a week, I’m pretty sure that is yesterday’s eyeliner, and I know I have seen that skirt with that blouse before. I haven’t seen you mess up your outfit schedule since the Monday after we first moved to New York. I know you know how much alcohol is in a Cosmopolitan now, so this-” Gwen gestured to the offending combination of plaid and sailor stripes “- must mean some kind of personal disaster.”

 

Mindy looked down. So apparently even her spectacular outfit was working in her favour. This plan might be working too well. “Damn it. I thought the last time I wore this I was with people from the hospital. I swear, when I become an attending and have real money the first thing I am doing is converting an entire room in my apartment into a closet so I have enough room for an endless wardrobe. And with God as my witness, I will never repeat an outfit again!”

“Okay, Scarlett. I didn’t mean to send you spiralling into Gone With the Wind references. It’s a nice outfit!”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Well worth repeating. Still, Mindy, what happened to your schedule? That is the one thing you _never_ double book.” Mindy could feel the attack of Gwen’s raised eyebrows all the way across the table.

“Okay, Gwen, you can stop with the judgy eyes. I already explained that they gave us no warning about that hospital event. Believe me, it was not worth skipping out on drinks with you.” The reminder of the mess of that evening put a tremor in her voice. It was more vulnerability than she wanted to show.

“Mindy, tell me what’s wrong. Please.” Gwen had passed from judgemental-concerned to openly worried, and Mindy was too tired to not talk about this any more. She grabbed the drink Gwen had ordered for her, peering into the garnish of berries and mint leaves while she gathered her thoughts.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… I was kind of seeing this guy, and he turned out to be a jerk.”

“Oh, hon, I’m so sorry. But you know, that happens.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t really know, do I? I haven’t properly dated anyone since med school. I haven’t even been on a date with anyone since Simon.”

“Who was Simon?”

“Red hair, glasses?”

“From that cooking class? You actually went out with him?”

“Ugh, I must have forgotten to tell you about it. He was actually more boring than the cooking class, which is saying something. I still don’t understand why Megan bought me those lessons.”

“Megan is one of your roommates, right? I already don’t like her.”

“Okay, you can’t keep getting annoyed that I have roommates that aren’t you. Can I remind you that it was your choice to get married and move to like, Iowa or whatever?”

“It’s Connecticut, Mindy. It’s closer to the city than some parts of New York.”

“Is that what Carl told you so you’d move there? Because it sounds like something a 75-year-old would say.”

“Carl is not 75.”

“He may as well be. He’s old, and it’s gross.” Mindy’s voice sounded petulant even to her own ears.

“Mindy!” Gwen’s offended gasp reminded Mindy that none of this situation was actually Carl’s fault, even if he was responsible for stealing her best friend from her. She tried to dredge up some contrition.

“I’m sorry. I… I might be projecting a little right now.”

Gwen eyed her down sceptically. “Forgiven.”

“And you might be right about Megan. Or, I don’t know.”

“What? What happened?”

 

Mindy took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to spill all her suspicions, her doubts and insecurities.

“I think she slept with the guy I was seeing.”

“What? While you were seeing him?” Gwen was incensed.

“No, no. But at some point. I think.”

“You… think? Mindy, is this like the time you thought the Spice Girls were part of the Illuminati?”

“It wasn’t a criticism! Their music is still great, it’s just, how else do you explain it? Their rise was meteoric, Gwen. It was completely unprecedented in the entirety of human history! It defied, like, math and physics. They had to, like, come up with new formulas. Formul-ae?”

“Okay, no more than 10% of that is true. And Mindy, do you have any actual evidence that they slept together?”

Mindy groaned. “It was just her _attitude_ , Gwen. If you’d seen it, you would have known something was up. And he did not deny it!”

“You spoke to him about it?” Gwen’s eyes were suddenly piercing and she leaned forward, intent on the gossip.

“Yes, Gwen! Do you think I just invent these things?”

“Wow. Was it, like, a casual thing? Or were they actually together?”

“Okay, so we didn’t really _talk_ about it, talk about it.” Mindy was reminded that it was also at that first study group that she knew Gwen was destined to be a lawyer.

“Was it before or after you knew Megan?”

“I need you to know that your nosiness has ceased to seem caring and is officially irritating.”

“So you don’t know?”

“I do not.”

 

“Okay.” Gwen turned her attention to the menu, one polished fingernail tripping its way across the page. Mindy stirred her drink with her straw absent-mindedly, ice cubes clinking against the glass. She spotted some berries near the bottom of her glass and began attacking them, the noise intensifying until Gwen cleared her throat pointedly. Mindy looked up at Gwen’s raised eyebrows.

“Sorry.”

“Mindy, tell me the rest. It’s clearly killing you.”

 

Mindy took a long drink through her straw, then placed the glass carefully back on the table. She was trying to find the words to explain what about Danny’s behaviour had been so hurtful, without making him sound like a terrible human being. For some reason she didn’t really want to examine, she needed Gwen not to hate him. She needed someone in her life to still believe he was a good guy, even if that someone had never met him.

“So I might have yelled at him. About the Megan thing. And about the other thing.”

“Other thing? Mindy, how many girls _were_ there? Tell me this guy  isn't that much of a player.”

“No! Or, I don’t think so. It was just, he wanted to keep it so private. Like ‘pretending we only know each other’s surnames’ private. And, I guess he’s not wrong that the hospital loves gossip, but is it really that bad? I love it when there are rumours about me. It’s good practice for my future as Beyonce’s private physician.”

“Well, not everyone has had good experiences with rumour mills, Mindy. Maybe he’s been burned by it.”

“Hey, if he’s got a rep as a smoking hot player he can’t be doing too badly.”

“I guess that depends if he’s trying to play people.”

 

Suddenly at a loss for words, Mindy seized her glass again and fished out an ice cube. Crunching it, she considered what she knew, which with hindsight wasn’t much. She knew Megan and Danny had a history. She knew Megan was bitter and Danny was evasive. Truthfully, she didn’t know either of them well enough to guess why it would have ended so badly. She sighed ruefully and went back to rooting around in her glass, and Gwen smiled sympathetically.

“Hey, you don’t have to have all the answers. But it seems like you still like this guy. So if I were you? I’d ask. Honestly, it really doesn’t sound like being blunt can make it any worse at this stage.”

“That’s true.” Suddenly feeling brighter, she reached out and put her hand over Gwen’s, squeezing it. “Hey, I’m lucky to have you, Gwen.”

“Are you ever. Especially because I am much better at choosing brunch spots than you are. Where the hell is the waiter? If he isn’t here in fifteen seconds I am finding the manager.”

“Has Carl seen you like this? I thought his generation preferred women to like, be seen and not heard.”

“That is the last ‘elderly Carl’ joke you get. Still no sign of the waiter! You stay here, I’m going to sort this out.” Gwen marched towards the kitchen, and Mindy contemplated the kind of strength that could give her enough confidence to ask for what she wanted.

  
  


*****

Though she’d never admit it, there was a part of her which really enjoyed night shifts at the hospital. Much as she kept up the charade of an intense social calendar, the truth was that with Gwen getting married and so many of her other college friends forced into jobs with even worse hours than hers, she did not spend as much time in New York’s classiest bars as she would like to pretend she did. She couldn’t even remember the last time a basketball player invited her into the VIP - assuming that dream about Bugs Bunny didn’t count.

 

Nonetheless, there was something very soothing in the ritual of pulling scrubs over her head, swapping contacts for glasses and tucking her hair under her scrub cap. She headed for the OR, a little giddy that she had been chosen to scrub in with the extremely skilled Dr. Werner.

 

She wasn’t even on guard for Danny anymore. After two weeks of avoiding him, she was almost kind of convinced she could talk to him now without humiliating herself, and there was a blooming conviction that if she could just get him to open up about whatever the hell had happened with them, they could fix it.

 

Spotting him through the door to the scrub room, she gulped in a breath and slammed herself against the wall. Alright, so perhaps less ‘almost kind of convinced’ than she had pretended. Closing her eyes, she did her best to muster up some kind of bravery. _Just channel Gwen. He is a negligent waiter. You are going to be polite, but firm. And you are going to get free dessert. Cheesecake. No, tiramisu!_

 

“Danny. I just wanted to check there were no hard feelings after last weekend.” Jeremy’s voice dragged her out of the dessert haven that was fast becoming her happy place. She heard Danny growl out a response.

“Why would there be?”

“I am well aware that our Dr. Lahiri was, shall we say, attempting a subterfuge.”

“She’s not ‘our’ anything,” Danny bit out. “I don’t care what she does.”

“Right. Of course. Well, I just wanted to be sure our working relationship would remain intact.”

“Of course it will. I’m the best doctor here, you think that changes just because some little -” he stopped, and the room became so silent that Mindy was convinced they would hear her breathing, more ragged by the moment. She stuffed her fist into her mouth.

“No, of course not,” Jeremy said smoothly.

“I’m not sitting here pining, you know. I have a date tonight, did you know that? With an _adult woman_.”

“I see.”

“She’s a photographer. She pays her bills. She knows what taxes are - I checked. And she doesn’t watch those reality thingummies, those shows with the shouting and someone gets voted out. She watches _Colbert_. No singing for two minutes with a half hour of crying after.” There was the sound of a faucet being turned on, hard. Mindy used the cover of water slamming into the sink to choke out a sob. The water stopped running and she heard the finality in Danny’s voice. “We’re going for pizza.”

 

She must have missed the sound of his feet coming towards the door. When it opened, it swung back towards the wall so fast it almost hit her in the face. She was grateful for the accidental cover it gave her, and when it slammed shut she saw Danny’s back, retreating down the hall without so much as a glance back in her direction. Jeremy followed him out of the room. As he turned to close it, he spotted her, tucked behind it, almost swallowing her own hand. She knew there was no way he could miss the tears in her eyes.

 

His eyebrows creased with something like concern.

“You know, they’re taking an uncommonly long time to set up the OR for the next surgery. Dr. Werner won’t miss you for the next quarter of an hour, if you were to take the opportunity to fuel up for your hours of observation.”

 

He crooked an elbow, extending it for her to link her arm through. Giving away her last shred of dignity, she wiped her eyes on her scrubs and took his arm, letting him drag her towards the vending machines.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fair warning, the next chapter might be a longer wait. Firstly, it is.... eventful, and I'm trying to figure a way to make all those events flow smoothly on from each other. Secondly, it's the one other chapter I didn't have at least a strong outline for before I wrote Ch3, so that combined with the eventfulness means you may be in store for another anxiety-ridden meltdown like I had for that chapter. WASN'T THAT FUN GUYS? Thirdly, I am literally at rehearsal every day. So yes, very very sorry if it's slow! I promise I will be doing my very best.


	6. Type

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should warn you, there is some angst.

“Mindy! _Mindy!_ Open this door!”

 

Mindy hoisted herself up to a sitting position on the couch to glare in the direction of her front door. Wrapping her comforter around her as tightly as she could, she stood, a wave of used tissues spilling onto the floor like a virus-laden avalanche. She waded to the front door, unlocking the bolts and opening it to Gwen and Maggie’s far-too-cheerful faces.

“Please do not shout at me when I am dying.”

“Well, maybe we wouldn’t have to if you had informed us you wouldn’t be at lunch today, Mindy. We went to the hospital looking for you and that British guy said you were sick.”

“I am not sick. I am _dying_. I have smallpox. Or the Black Plague. Actually no, they were both gross. I have what Satine had in Moulin Rouge.”

“Tuberculosis?”

“Wow, it sounds so much sexier when they call it consumption.”

“So you have a cold?”

Mindy glared at Gwen and shuffled into the kitchen, filling the kettle with as much righteous indignation as she could while holding back a sneeze.

“Here, let me do that. And please, blow your nose. God, I would have thought a doctor would be better at basic hygiene while sick.” Gwen swapped the kettle for a handful of tissues pulled from her handbag.

“I’m quarantined, aren’t I? Trapped in my apartment, never to see the sky again.”

“Once again, it is a cold. It isn’t like you to skip work for a cold, Mindy. You’re always complaining that the competition is too tough and you’ll miss out on patients if you’re not there.”

 

“She’s pining.” Megan had wandered into the kitchen, wearing a surgical mask and latex gloves.

“I am not pining! If I’m not really sick, why are you wearing a Hazmat suit in your own kitchen?”

“Because yesterday you sneezed directly in my face, and if you get me sick and I have to take time off work, _they will never find your body.”_

Gwen and Maggie looked a little shocked at her tone, but Megan just shrugged.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t sick, just that she wasn’t that sick. She’s sad because some guy said she wasn’t his type. _Weeks ago.”_

“Megan, you are the actual worst. Go away.” Mindy stuck her tongue out at Megan’s departing back.

 

Gwen tossed a derisive glare in Megan’s direction, clearly unwilling to think anything positive of anyone who lived with Mindy.

“I was definitely right about your roommate.”

“No, she’s not normally like this. She’s just crowing because she thinks I struck out with that guy she slept with.”

“Mindy, is this the guy you were telling me about at brunch? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It isn’t a big deal. He just found someone else, that’s all. It happens. And I’m not pining over him. I really am sick, guys!”

“Yeah, but if I know you, you’ll have been up all night for weeks watching every romantic comedy in your DVD collection, right?”

“Okay, yes, I might have.”

“And eating nothing but sour straws and ice cream?”

Mindy looked off to one side, a small crease appearing between her eyes as she considered Maggie’s words.

“Maybe my diet could use some work.”

 

Maggie hit her lightly across the back of the head, and Mindy moaned dramatically.

“Are you even a doctor? No sleep, nothing but sugar, and you’re surprised you have a cold?” Maggie shouted into her ear, beating her with a cushion from the couch.

_“Consumption_ , Maggie!” Mindy defended herself pitifully from the blows. “It’s like you don’t even listen when I talk.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, pushing Mindy bodily back towards the couch.

“Sit down. I’ll get your tea. Maggie, could you please teach Mindy to blow her nose?”

Maggie grabbed a tissue and put it up to Mindy’s nose.

“Blow.”

Mindy complied, feeling ridiculous, and Maggie considered her with sympathy.

“You know what you need? You need to get back on that horse.” Maggie held another tissue up to Mindy’s nose, but Mindy swatted it away.

“Are you suggesting I rebound-crush? This seems like terrible advice.”

Gwen walked to the couch to hand Mindy a mug, which Mindy squinted into suspiciously. If she knew Gwen, there was a very good chance this tea was like, green tea with antioxidants or something, and not the Apple Pie flavoured chai latte mix she had been planning on drinking. Gwen rolled her eyes and handed her a few packets of sugar from her purse.

“It is terrible advice. But still… Mindy, this could actually work.”

“What?” Mindy took a gulp of tea and grimaced, groping for the extra sugar packets. “Gwen, you’re supposed to talk me out of insane plans like this!”

“Okay, but hear me out. The problem with this guy is that you work in the same place, right? He’s always around. If you find some guy to distract you who you don’t work with, even if it doesn’t work out -”

“I won’t have to see him every time I need vending machine snacks.” Mindy took a swig of appropriately-sweetened tea, mulling it over. “Yes! Gwen, this is genius!”

“Hey! It was my idea,” Maggie cried, incensed.

“Yeah, but it sounds a lot better coming from someone who didn’t once fall off a mountain chasing an Olympic skiier.”

Maggie considered this for a moment. “That is fair.”

“If I do this, how do I even meet the guy? I never leave the hospital.”

“Oh, you can meet guys anywhere. On the subway, in line for coffee, at the police station.” Maggie dismissed Mindy’s concern with a wave of her hand.

“Okay, I think I can do better than a felon,” Mindy protested with a scowl.

“I meant cops!” Maggie defended, hotly.

“I do like uniforms.” Mindy gazed off into the distance, letting her mind drift to the possibilities. “Okay. I’ll try it.”

  
  


*****

A month later, she waited for the hospital elevator at the end of her shift. She was showered, shaved, and moisturised. She felt luminous, and the sleek pink dress she’d chosen made her skin glow. A small smile settled on her face, the kind of satisfaction she always took from feeling gorgeous.

 

She caught a pair of dark eyes settling on her. Danny. Of course he would appear now, when she’d been so good at avoiding him. Of course it would be tonight, when she was just starting to feel human again.

He pressed the down button, then settled back to wait, not looking at her.

“You look nice.” His voice was soft. It fell on her like snow, and she couldn’t shake it off.

“Thank you.” She forced herself to breathe it out, turning her head to look at him. “I have a date.”

“Again? That’s the third in what, two weeks? This guy is keen.” He tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

She couldn’t fixate on that. She wouldn’t let herself wonder how he’d noticed, when she’d worked so hard to avoid him. She pretended she was stone, hard and cold.

“Guys, actually.”

“Oh, wow. So you’re doing the casual dating thing, huh? That’s… that’s pretty new for you, isn’t it?” He cocked his head, and Mindy felt a bubble of frustration at his attempts to be friendly.

“I date,” she snapped. The elevator dinged, the doors opening. She stalked in and jammed her finger onto the button for the first floor.

“No, I know, I just mean… I’ve never known you to be… out and about like this.” He waved his hand lamely. He shifted back and forth on his feet, uncertain if he should follow her into the elevator.

“Are you trying to say something, Danny?”

“No! What? God, no!” She seemed to have broken something in him, and he darted into the elevator as the doors started to close. He leaned against the railing at the back of the car, not looking at her. “I just meant… you didn’t used to, that’s all.”

She was irrationally angry that he was making her turn around to talk to him.

“Well, how I used to do things wasn’t working out for me.”

 

His head whipped towards her, eyes focusing on her with an unreadable intensity that she didn’t want to analyse.

“Sorry.” His voice was quiet, strained. He coughed lightly to clear his throat. “To hear that, I mean. I mean that it’s good that you’re happy. With the dating.”

“Thank you.”

She focused on the elevator doors. She felt the slight bump of the elevator coming to rest at the first floor and closed her eyes, praying he would let her go, just this once.

The doors opened and she bolted from the car. If she’d turned, she would have seen him leaning against the back wall, hands clenched over the rail behind him, eyes boring into the ground. As it was, she felt an empty kind of relief at the silence she was running from.

 

*****

Lucas was nice, but since One Tree Hill she had high expectations of guys named Lucas that pretty much no-one but Chad Michael Murray was going to be able to meet.

 

Still, he was sweet, he loved movies with an unabashed enthusiasm that was contagious, and she found herself laughing for the first time in ages. When she was called back into the hospital, the smile she gave her patient was real, and the heaviness that settled in her chest whenever she entered the doctor’s lounge these days was easier to carry.

 

“Well, look at you.”

Mindy turned her attention from the vending machine to see Jeremy, who was stretched out on one of the couches.

“Look at me? I mean, I know these scrubs are a great shade of blue for me -”

“Not that - though you are stunning as always - but I was talking about the smile. I haven’t seen one of those on you in quite a while.”

“I actually had a pretty great date tonight.” Mindy pushed a button on the vending machine and retrieved her candy with a triumphant grin.

“You’re dating again? Does this mean - “ he gestured between them, eyebrows raised.

“Ew, you wish, pervert.” She slapped him lightly across the back of the head.

“I do wish. I think I’ve made that quite clear.” He tried to flatten the hair she’d knocked awry, to no avail. Resting his head on the back of the couch, he scrutinised her as she flopped into a chair across from him, tucking her legs under her and tearing open the packet of Twizzlers.

“So, does this mean the Danny mourning is over?”

She considered throwing something at him, she was so sick of the question, but Jeremy had been nothing but supportive through the whole debacle - his constant offers to cheer her up in the on-call room notwithstanding.

“I don’t know if it’s over, but I think the worst has passed.” She chewed on the end of a Twizzler pensively. “You know, I spoke to him today.”

“Was he grumpy-and-taciturn Danny, or defensive-and-insecure Danny?”

“Neither, actually. He was nice, I think. He even apologised, kind of.”

“You managed to wrangle an apology from Danny Castellano?”

“Well, he sort of phrased it as ‘sorry you feel bad’, but it felt genuine. He said he was glad I was happy.”

“Did _that_ seem genuine?”

“Why shouldn’t it? I mean, he has that girlfriend now, right? The photographer. It seems like they’re going pretty strong. He’s not that much of a dick that he’d want me to be miserable, not when we were barely anything.”

Jeremy snorted. “Barely anything for as long as you two were dancing around each other is definitely something.”

“Excuse me? It was like two weeks, and most of that was fighting. I mean I guess we were flirty for a while before that... I don't know. Sometimes it’s hard to tell with Danny.”

 

Jeremy looked at her in abject shock.

“You really don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“Huh. Well, I suppose he wouldn’t have been keen for you to know that story. Danny is somewhat known for his pride. And we did mock him for months.”

“What story? What was so embarrassing?” Mindy shoved another Twizzler into her mouth, settling in for whatever gossip Jeremy had.

“Nothing, really. Or nothing for most men, but Danny can be very… particular.” Jeremy raised his eyebrows in a manner clearly intended to be both meaningful and devastatingly handsome. Mindy threw a cushion at him.

“Jeremy, stop being a gossip tease.”

“Alright, alright. Do you remember when we first started here, we were all at that mixer for the residents?”

“The night you were so drunk you asked a cop for his hat to throw up in because ‘why else do Bobby’s hats look like buckets?’ Yes, I remember.” Mindy giggled. “Who is ‘Bobby’, by the way?”

“Now is not the time for you to hear about how gin fools my brain into thinking I am back in England. Do you remember anything else from that night? Do you remember meeting Danny?”

“God, yes. He was so sweaty I thought he’d been swimming or something. I asked him if the party had a pool and he was so confused, he just stood there gaping at me.” Mindy grinned at the memory. “That was actually the night I met Megan, too!”

Jeremy nodded. “Yes, it would have been. What did you think of her?”

“She came over while I was cleaning Danny’s sweat off my palms, and introduced herself to him. Then she asked me to grab her a drink because she was like, scared of the bartender or something, which was actually super weird. And then, get this, I bring it to her and she takes one sip and accuses me of trying to poison her. It was almost an all-out catfight except I am as cool as a cucumber and distracted her with that picture of Ryan Gosling I took when he was in Manhattan for some press thing. Two weeks later we were roommates. It just goes to show, you can find friends anywhere.”

“I’m glad it all worked out for you. Though she was right about the poison. As I recall, the recipe for a screwdriver does not traditionally include the crazy nurse’s homemade alcohol.” Jeremy screwed up his nose. Beverley’s moonshine was famous among the residents for its potency as well as for landing them in the very hospital they worked at for alcohol poisoning..

“She said it was the drink that made her Mrs. Robinson,” Mindy recalled, then hastily backtracked. “Of course, I’m too young for Graduate references so I had no idea what she meant.”

“She said that to me, too, and having seen the movie didn’t make the reference any clearer.” Jeremy frowned, trying to work it out, but Mindy would not be deterred.

“Focus, Jeremy! This is not about Beverley… Robinson? Beverley Whatever’s weird old person booze. Tell me about Danny.”

“Well, Megan saw him at the party and decided she was going to take him home in under a minute. I believe she may have even had a wager with several of her fellow residents to that effect.”

“And Danny found out about the bet and got mad! Oh wow, so it’s She’s All That, but in reverse! And Danny’s a surprisingly hot old gynaecologist instead of a surprisingly hot art geek. But apart from that it’s identical, Jeremy!”

“Your adorable references to low-quality American film aside, no. She was, ahem… unsuccessful.”

“What?”

“She followed him around all night, tried every trick in the book, and with the whole party looking on, as well - it was all surprisingly alluring, but she couldn’t seem to, well, focus his attention.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing all right, but for her, not for him.” Mindy’s Twizzlers were empty. She started rifling through her purse for change.

 

“I don’t think he finds the reminder of the evening embarrassing. More… uncomfortable. You see, Danny had his eye on someone else at the party. And Megan’s attempts to woo him somewhat thwarted his attempts to make the lady’s acquaintance.” Jeremy was looking at her intently, as though she was supposed to divine some kind of subtextual meaning from his words, but Mindy was distracted by the discovery of a mint in her bag. She gestured for him to continue. He sighed.

“Eventually, after the lady in question left, he snapped at Megan. Told her she wasn’t his type. It was loud, and a little more public than he would have liked. It was the talk of the hospital for quite some time afterwards, and there were several running jokes as to what his type was.”

 

Mindy’s jaw dropped. “Woah. I take it back. That must have been wicked embarrassing for Dr. Discretion.” Mindy pondered the story for a minute. “Wait, if it was like, this crazy, hospital-wide gossip, how did I not hear about it?”

Jeremy froze.

“I think it was shortly afterwards that you and Megan started living together. I suppose people were uncertain if they should discuss it in front of you, lest it should get back to her.”

“What? I am the soul of discretion!”

Jeremy looked at her in disbelief. “Of course you are.”

“Yes, I am. Which is why you have to tell me who the girl Danny wanted to hook up with was.”

Jeremy made a dismissive hand gesture. “On your own head be it.”

Mindy felt something in her tighten in anticipation.

 

*****

She didn’t have a shift with Danny for days. She was grateful, at first. She needed to think, and she’d never been able to do that when he was looking at her. But after almost a week, her impatience was growing. When she heard from the nurses that he was on with her that night, and down in Radiology chasing something up, she couldn’t help it. She ran.

 

Danny was putting an X-ray up on the lightbox when she charged into the room, sucking in air like she’d run miles instead of just down a few corridors. He looked at her like she was insane, and opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. She took a second to catch her breath before she spoke.

“I was looking for you.”

“For me.” He was dumbfounded.

“Yeah.” She nodded fiercely. “I wanted to talk.”

He took a step towards her. “So talk.”

“I just…” Suddenly her heart was in her throat. There was a weight on her chest, and everything she’d meant to say got caught underneath it. She dragged in a breath. “How are you?”

His brow creased in confusion. “I’m fine. You?”

“Good.”

 

The silence dragged. Mindy felt the crease between her eyebrows deepen. This was not going according to plan. She groped for words, but he got there first.

“How was your date?”

“He was funny.” She heard the words come out of her mouth.

“That’s good. Funny is good. Are you going to see him again?” He was looking everywhere but her.

“I’m not sure that’s the point,” she said numbly.

“Right.” He was nodding. He was nodding so much, and he still wasn’t looking at her. “Still, if you like him, you should go for it.”

 

Mindy nodded, a wave of resignation taking over her. Suddenly the weight in her chest shifted, pushed up by the words she hadn’t been able to choke out.

“Danny, about yesterday, in the elevator? And, I mean, I know recently I’ve been, you know - but I was talking to Jeremy, and -”

“Jeremy?” Danny’s face had that kicked-puppy look again.

“Yeah.” Mindy stopped. Mindy realised with horror that he thought Jeremy was her next date. “Oh, no! No, no, that’s not what I meant, I just meant -”

 

“Dr. Castellano! I hear congratulations are in order!” A tall, older man had marched into the room, a smile on his face like a proud parent.

“Dr. Werner, thank you.” Danny accepted his handshake sheepishly.

“Congratulations?” Mindy looked between the two men, confused.

“Our Dr. Castellano is leaving for private practice, with Marc Shulman.” Dr. Werner clapped Danny on the back, knocking him forward a couple of inches. Danny’s face was all bashful pride.

“You’re leaving.” Mindy knew she didn’t sound happy for him. She wasn’t sure she cared.

“Yeah. It’s a- it’s a great opportunity for me. Small practice, you know, but Shulman has a strong patient base, a lot of referrals.”

Dr. Werner’s pager went off and he waved a goodbye, jogging out of the room.

“Danny, that’s amazing. You must be really happy.” Mindy forced some kind of cheer into her voice.

He shrugged. “It’s a step up from this place, for sure.”

Mindy looked around the room and chuckled. It was a little worse for wear. When she looked back at him, his eyes were trapped on her and he was smouldering. She took a chance.

“Did you want to maybe go get a drink or something? To celebrate?”

“I can’t, actually,” he sighed regretfully. “I’m going out for dinner. With… the girlfriend, you know.”

“Oh, right, of course. Your girlfriend.” It was the first time she’d heard him call her that, and it hit her in the gut.

“Yeah.” He paused again. “Hey, I’ve got to go.”

 

He raised his hand like he was going to touch her cheek, and it hovered between them. She stepped into his space, desperate to encourage the urge. She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, watched his chin lower, his eyebrows pulling together and his chest expanding as he pulled in a breath. All her nerves were on fire and screaming at her to crash into him, but she needed it to come from him. She needed to know he hadn’t given up on her, that whatever had been there still existed.

 

His eyes dipped to her lips, eyelids drooping, those ridiculously long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. She drove every ounce of will into her feet, willing them to stay where they were.

 

She took another step.

 

His hand stopped hovering, coming to rest lightly on her cheek. Something lit in his face, something lost and desperately sad. He pressed his lips to her other cheek, and she felt him breathe her in. Before she could turn her head to catch his lips, he’d stepped away, hands shoved into his pockets, face rueful.

“Say hi to Jeremy for me.”

 

At least this time when he left, she knew it was the last time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry. I've made you wait so long, and now it's here it's THIS. I'm the worst.
> 
> Writer's block has been hitting me so, so hard, and real life has been hitting me harder. It's a mess. And I'm having one of those periods where you just hate EVERYTHING you write and think it's all terrible drivel that's fit for nothing but burning, so that didn't help.
> 
> I'm so hoping this will be the end of my writer's block, since the more chapters I write the closer I get to *Chapter 9*, the magical chapter I wrote months ago that is the aim of all this. But this is me, and realistically it's more likely that I will continue to write chapters, edit them for weeks, then whinge to you all that they're horrific and disgusting for a month before finally posting them anyway.
> 
> You wanted an anxious rant in your author's notes, right? Excellent. Glad to be of service.


	7. Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely unbeta'd, because I am sick of fighting with this thing, but it's DONE. I'll probably just edit it every day now it's posted until it meets some kind of grammatical and cultural standard. Apart from the obvious mess that it is, I actually... like this chapter. Which is new for me. I really, really hope you like it too.

Months had passed, and Mindy was moving apartments. She’d spent the entire afternoon in her room, packing, when she heard Jeremy calling her name. She poked her head out her bedroom door to see Jeremy standing in the hallway. He looked more lost than was appropriate for someone in an average two-bedroom apartment in New York.

“Your roommate merely grunted and pointed when I asked where you were. Do you know, I don’t remember her being this surly at your housewarming.”

“God, don’t even talk about it. It’s been months of this weird tension, Jeremy. Like I know everything that happened with her and Danny, and she knows that _something_ happened with me and Danny. This is why Girl Code says you don’t go after a guy your friend likes. It’s not to be nice. It’s so you don’t spend months being all weird and polite to each other, while secretly wondering if today is the day she snaps. I’ve started sleeping with a knife under my pillow.”

“Mindy, don’t be ridiculous. You are not worried Megan is going to kill you.”

“Well, her or the SVU guy downstairs. I’m very murderable!”

“At least neither of them will be a concern for you now.” Jeremy gestured to the boxes. “Your lease is up, you’re moving out. New roommate?”

“Urgh, don’t remind me. I can’t wait until residency is over and I’m earning enough to get my own place.”

“In Manhattan? You’ll have to go into private practice with your ex to earn that kind of money.”

“Danny Castellano is not my ex. He’s…”

“The One That Got Away?”

“Ew. Gross. No. He’s the mistake I almost made, okay? Now I know better.”

“Well, that is the kind of progress I like to see.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet it is. You think if I’m over Danny, I’ll sleep with you.”

“Won’t you?” He gave her his best smoulder, but Mindy was unmoved.

“What answer is going to make you tape up these boxes? The movers said they won’t take my stuff if it’s just shoved into tote bags like it was yesterday.”

“Tote bags?”

“I went through a Clinique phase, okay? Every woman with her first job goes through a Clinique phase.”

“I don’t know what on earth that is, but it certainly doesn’t sound veracious.”

“Are you trying to stay on my good side by criticising me using words you think I don’t know? I’ll have you know I learned that synonym for ‘truthful’ in eighth grade when I got it confused with ‘voracious’.” Mindy paused. “That was not a good lunch.”

“Well, I welcome both aspects of Dr. Lahiri. Come on, let’s finish these boxes and I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Now that is how you get a girl to sleep with you.”

 

********

“I refuse to eat at a street cart. I didn’t get all the recommended inoculations before leaving England! Who knows what I could contract from a dirty griddle?”

“Okay, that was offensive. Luckily for you, an actual restaurant is more expensive than a street cart. And since this is your treat, the expense matters a lot to me.”

Jeremy groaned. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to maintain my perfectly coiffed hair and dazzling smile on a resident’s salary?”

“Too bad, buster. We’re going somewhere where the tablecloths aren’t made out of paper.”

“We may have to stop by my apartment first. I’m sure I have some furniture I can sell.”

“Hey, quit it! You are having lunch with a super smart, bangable doctor! You should be so lucky to do this every day.”

“We do have lunch every day.” Jeremy held the door open for her. As she walked through, she slapped him across the chest in mock admonishment. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it in apology. She was rolling her eyes, laughing, when he pulled her back before she could walk into someone.

 

“Hey, guys.” Danny Castellano was suddenly right in front of her, all puppy dog eyes and hair just starting to curl.

“Danny, hi.”

“Funny place to bump into you. When I was a resident, I pretty much ate ramen and street cart hot dogs.” He was trying for a joke, but the awkwardness was almost a visible presence in the air.

Jeremy tried to break the silence. “Yes, well, as Dr. Lahiri here continually reminds me, she deserves the best.”

“I’m sure she thinks she does.” Danny’s eyes flicked down to her hand, still clasped in Jeremy’s.

Mindy felt an urge to snatch her hand back, chased by a rush of anger. She squeezed Jeremy’s hand. So what if Danny thought something was happening? It’s not like it was his business.

Jeremy took the hint. He let her hand go to loop his arm over her shoulder with cheerful possessiveness. Mindy was gratified to see Danny’s eyebrows twitch together and his lips dip into a frown. She’d gotten to him, and no matter how much she hated that it mattered to her, that small victory meant the world.

“She’s not always good at getting it, though,” Danny snarked.

“I wouldn’t know about that, I’m afraid,” Jeremy smirked, eyes twinkling. He pulled Mindy into his side, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m going to secure a table. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”

 

Danny watched him go. His shoulders contracted. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and that scowl - if Mindy didn’t know better, she’d say Danny was glowering at Jeremy.

“Do you guys go anywhere without each other any more?”

Mindy hid her glee at his discomfort with a faux-casual shrug of her shoulders. “We just get along, is all.”

“Must be nice to be all trendy, do the gay best friend thing.”

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“You are not going to pretend you think Jeremy’s gay like it’s an insult, are you? What are you, some Dartmouth frat boy? That is gross, Danny.”

“I’m just saying, with the accent -”

“Ugh. So gross. Just stop talking.”

“I’m gross? I’m not the one parading in here, slobbering all over people’s hands. This is a restaurant. People are trying to eat.”

"You’re right. People are trying to eat their homophobia-free lunches.”

“That isn’t even - Fine.” He fixed his gaze on her, and Mindy fought down her need to know why he cared, the clichéd demand choking her, sticking in her throat.

“Well?” she snapped, “Are you going to apologise?” She met his stare dead-on, daring him to defend himself.

“I’m sorry,” he parroted, eyes still boring into her.

 

Their staring contest was starting to feel childish; the heat between them sublimated to the ridiculousness of the moment. Mindy felt warmth rising in her cheeks, a kind of vague humiliation that she was starting to associate with Danny. This was a man who seemed to always have her acting like some toddler version of herself. She found herself wanting to backtrack, to try the conversation from the beginning. To see if this could be the conversation that went the right way, that ended with neither of them hurt or confused or angry. She felt inexplicably guilty, responsible for Danny’s immaturity, and mentally chastised herself for it. And while all this was flashing through her head, he was still staring at her, eyes fierce, and the child in her couldn’t lose this. She had to stare him down.

 

“Why do we do this, Danny?” She broke the silence.

“Why do we do what?”

“This. The staring, and the insults, and the… competition thing. Why can’t we just talk? This isn’t who I am, Danny. I don’t have passive-aggressive staring contests with men in fancy restaurants. I’m not Summer Roberts.”

His shoulders slumped, his eyebrows creasing with something akin to pain, then knitting together like he was sizing her up, deciding if he could trust her.

“I don’t know."

It was a small offering, but something in it hit her. His voice was small, softer than she’d heard it in months. He was looking anywhere but at her. She found herself back in Radiology, desperate to understand why he was drifting away from her. She needed to know why he was evading her every move, when his face was telling her to pull him close and never let go.

“What do you want from me?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

He looked up at her, lost.

“I’m engaged.”

 

Blood roared in her ears. She waited, rooted to the spot, knowing that this was the moment when one or the other of them made the decision to run. Her head was spinning and she knew it was going to be him, because her vision was whittling down to a point, darkness pressing from all sides. The telltale hitch of her diaphragm told her that the stress barfs were coming. She prayed that Danny would bolt before she humiliated herself by either throwing up or fainting. She felt his hands clasp her arms and the seat of a chair butting into the back of her knees, knocking her into a seated position. She hated herself for dropping forward, head between her knees, because _goddammit, this was not who she was._ Mindy Lahiri didn’t faint, for god’s sakes. She wasn’t in a Jane Austen novel - she was Bridget Jones, not Lizzie Bennet, and Bridget Jones didn’t faint. She knocked out cameramen while skidding down a fire pole. Bridget Jones needed prettier underwear, not smelling salts.

 

“I’m not sure either would help you at this moment. I’m fairly certain what you need is something to eat.” Jeremy’s voice broke through her external monologue. She had no idea when he had reappeared, but she did know he was waving a candy bar under her nose. “With the amount of high fructose corn syrup you consume, I doubt your body is used to going this long without some kind of sugar spike.” He glanced at Danny, who was looking back and forth between them, bewildered. “If you’re friends with Mindy for more than a month, you learn to have snacks at all times. It’s really just self-preservation.”

“Hey! That sounded insulting,” Mindy protested. With her mouth full of chocolate, though, she knew she didn't have the high ground. She looked up at Danny. “I actually do feel better already. I really shouldn’t skip breakfast just to pack some dumb boxes.”

“You’re moving?” Danny asked.

“Yeah. Megan and I aren’t getting along as well these days,” she shot at him, her voice only a little pointed. Danny had the grace to look embarrassed, shifting from foot to foot, and she took pity on him. “Turns out she was not exactly straight with me. I can forgive pretty much anything, except lies. And stealing the last Chanel at a sample sale.” She hoped he caught the meaning behind her words. The vague smile on his face was so uncertain, and the look in his eyes so preoccupied, that she wasn’t sure he’d even registered her speaking at all.

“Are you feeling better?” Jeremy asked. “Ready to eat my entire paycheck?”

Mindy grinned. “Hey, don’t offer what you’re not happy to give.” She considered her words for a second. “That was like, super deep. It sounded like something Madonna would have said in the 80s. Not that I was alive then,” she assured Danny, who shook his head dismissively.

She stood up and took his hand, pressing it between hers.

“Congratulations, Danny.”

His eyes caught where they clasped palms for a second. He didn’t pull away, and Mindy felt a tiny flutter of hope in her chest - not at the contact, but at the progress. For the first time, neither of them had run.

“Thanks."

 

She let him go, trying to keep the supportive smile on her face, and when she wished him well, she meant it. She and Jeremy turned, heading towards their table, but Danny called them back.

“I just thought - look, Shulman’s thinking of taking on a couple of new associates in the new year. Around the time your class finishes their residency. I mean, if you want - you guys are, I mean, you’re not awful doctors. So just keep it in mind.”

“Danny, you’re getting us jobs? That’s amazing!”

“Hey, hold up! I’m not getting you anything. It’s just a heads up, that’s all. You apply, you’re on your own.”

“Right. Of course. Still. You’re totally getting us an in.”

“I am not getting you anything.”

“Is this nepotism? Like the Mob? Are you expecting me to give someone concrete boots in return?”

“I am not in the Mob.”

“Sure you aren’t, Jersey Boy.”

“Staten. I am from _Staten!_ ”

“Same thing,” Mindy’s eyes twinkled. “Thank you, Godfather.”

“You’re welcome.” She could have sworn she heard some pride in his voice. “Okay, I’ve got to get going. Try not to fall over again. Jeremy’s all thin and reedy, I doubt he could hold you up on his own.”

“I don’t even know where to start on how insulting that was, to Jeremy, to feminism, and also to me.”

“I am statuesque and streamlined!” Jeremy protested, hands windmilling.

Danny snorted with derision and tossed them a wave as he headed out of the restaurant. His hands were back in his pockets, his head tucked against the non-existent cold.

 

Mindy was quiet as she sat down at their table. Jeremy eyed her down, irritatingly smug.

“The Mistake You Almost Made, was it?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t go back to exes, Mindy. It never ends well.”

“I’m not going ‘back’ to anyone,” Mindy snapped. Almost petulantly, she heard herself murmur, “You have to have had someone to go back to them.”

“Spare me the theatrics. All I’m saying is, if you two choose to start this dance again, let me know. Danny might be compact, but he’s scrappy, and all of my experience with fisticuffs has ended… badly.” He shuddered. “I don’t want to end up on the wrong end of whatever inferiority complex he’s working through where you’re concerned.”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“I already said I have no interest in your feigned protestations, Mindy.”

“No, I mean that’s really not what’s happening. He’s engaged.”

Jeremy choked on his water. “Engaged? To whom?”

“That photographer, I guess.”

“Oh, Mindy. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Why is everyone treating me like some damsel about this? Like I can’t handle hearing that some guy I hooked up with for like a second has moved on? He’s been 'moved on' for months. I’ve been 'moved on' for months! Okay, whatever, he’s engaged. I’m dating too!”

Jeremy sighed. “I think perhaps it’s way way you look like a truck has hit you after every conversation with him.”

“Yes, okay, I am not good at hiding my emotions. But that doesn’t mean I’m some fragile princess! Just because something hurts doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. And just because I cry or drink a lot of wine doesn’t mean I can’t pick myself back up.”

“You’re right.”

“I am right. And you know what else? That went well, Jeremy. I mean, for us. He actually spoke to me. He told me that he was engaged, I didn’t have to find out from some rando hospital person breezing through the room during a really crucial moment. And he’s getting us into private practice! That was like, a really nice gesture from Danny _“I hiked through the garbage dump to get to school”_ Castellano.”

“Well, he told us that vacancies exist. I don’t know if that qualifies as ‘getting us into private practice’.”

Mindy waved a hand at him, clearly not bothered by the semantics. “It went well.”

 

Jeremy’s eyes crinkled as he looked at her.

“What’s so funny?” Mindy demanded, sick of being his punchline. Jeremy shook his head.

“It’s only that I actually believe you.”

“Thanks a lot, loser. Just for that, I’m getting dessert.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this seems like an odd resolution. You're all just going to have to trust me that this is the eye of the storm ;)


	8. Cheesecake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually half of a chapter - the half I have had written since about two days after my last update. The next scene is the bit that won't play ball, so consider this short interlude a promise from me that this is NOT abandoned, that I'm still here, just struggling like hell to learn how to write stories. I hope you like it! It's unbetad, but I sure have stared at it for long enough that if there ARE typos, just pretend they're deliberate.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your continued patience, support and love. I COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT YOU.

  
_Okay, so it’s true that back when I started my residency, I envisaged beginning my career as a fellow in an Upper East Side practice furnished in shades of ivory and cream, examination tables so plush patients could fall asleep on them, with silk gowns made in some tiny orphan village and solid gold instruments._

“I did not imagine that my dream job would be at some rando 70s-looking office in SoHo with some old fuddy-duddy and Dr. Marc Shulman, who’s like, getting on in years himself. But here we are, and this cover letter? Yeah, this could be the most important of my life. So the least you can do is give me the password to the good employee wifi, because your free network burned out somewhere after all the reality shows I watched on Youtube.” Mindy looked pointedly at the barista in front of her, who despite her five minute speech was completely unmoved.

“And as I’ve said before, Ma’am -”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

“- we don’t have employee wifi. And if we did, I wouldn’t be allowed to give you the password.”

“Did you miss the part where I am literally a doctor? What if there was a medical emergency?”

“What medical emergency would you need wifi for?”

“Okay, that is not the point. You know what? If you ever need gynaecological care, don’t come crying to me.”

“I… I’m a man. I mean, I’m a man with testicles. And no uterus.”

“Well, then any of your uterus-having family members. Oh yeah. I won’t be delivering any of their babies. A plague on your house!”

 

“Don’t mind her. She’s got a thing for Romeo and Juliet.” The gravelly voice came out of nowhere, and Mindy craned her head over her shoulder to catch sight of Danny, leaning against the wall behind her as though he was posing for some kind of catalogue. She caught the smirk on his lips and felt the instinctive frown tug at hers.

“It is literally about the immense power of youth, Danny. I wouldn’t expect an old man like you to get it, but when I was an extremely young child, seeing Leo and Clare fuck an entire city up, like, awoke something in me.”

“No, what it’s about is how if you’re disloyal to your family, you die, and you take down your favourite relatives with you. You don’t choose some girl over your family, okay? And if I had a daughter and she was running off after some brain-dead loser who spouted a few bits of poetry at her, I would have things to say, okay?”

“Ew, Danny, gross! You’re going to marry your daughter off to some old dude rather than a baby-faced Di Caprio?”

“Hey, Paris was financially stable. Responsible. There’s something to be said for a man who pays his bills on time, okay? Maybe he didn’t have some fancy accent and didn’t go around kissing girls’ hands in restaurants, but when it comes down to it, do you want all that fribbledy-frou, or do you want a man you can count on?”

“Oh my god. This is like some kind of Oedipal nightmare.”

“That is not - Do you even know who Oedipus was?”

“I know he was old and gross and probably married a teenager, just like Paris. And you, probably.”

“Hey, my fiancée is a grown woman. It’s not like I’m marrying -” he stopped to gape at her, grappling for an appropriate end to the sentence.

“Yes?”

“Look, just stop it. The point is, you shouldn’t harass service staff.” He waved vaguely at the barista, who was still standing by Mindy’s table.

 

“Erm - do I still have to be here? Is there - is there anything you guys need? Because there are - I mean, customers…” he trailed off when Mindy and Danny turned their glares in his direction.

“No, stay. It’s important you truly understand the brilliance of my takedown of this man. This man, I’ll have you know, random barista dude, was like, a troubled youth.” Mindy paused a second to allow for the barista’s shocked gasp. “Yeah. I mean, there he was, growing up in the slums of 1950s New Jersey...”

“None of that is accurate.”

Mindy ignored him. “But someone sees something in him - a spark of talent, a unique voice. And before he knows it, he’s catapulted to stardom - only fame comes with a price. Because that someone? Yeah. You guessed it. It’s the Godfather.”

The barista frowned. “Isn’t this the plot to Jersey Boys?”

“God, figures I’d get the barista who actually spends time on Broadway. Yes, Persnickety, it is the plot to some rando musical. But it is also the heart-rending tale of one Danny Castellano. I mean, except he can’t sing or whatever. But he can catch a baby like a pro.”

“You’re an OBGYN too?” The barista asked Danny, his irritation turned to interest.

“Hey, I heard that hopeful tone. He’s not for you. Remember that embargo?”

“You’re banning me from other OBGYNs?”

“Yes. Well, any that I can influence with my feminine wiles. Which is all of them, sucker. Get ready to drive your sister out to Newark, bucko!”

“Mindy, you can’t ban service staff from medical care. What if his sister needs an emergency C-section?”

Mindy thought for a second, frowning ferociously. “Dammit. Fine. If it is an emergency, I will let Danny Castellano catch your stupid sister’s baby. But otherwise? Newark.”

“Hey, man, don’t worry. Newark - it’s not that bad, Newark. It grows on you. Right, Mindy?” His voice cut through her. She turned on him, but the smile on his lips wasn’t mocking, or sarcastic, or his patented smirk. He raised his eyebrows at her, the sweet crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“I’m not worried. I mean, mostly because I don’t actually have any siblings, so…” the barista’s voice interrupted what had rapidly become a reverie. Mindy covered her blush with a rant.

“Oh my god. You made me go through that whole ethical quandary for nothing? This has got to be the rudest customer service I have ever experienced.” She paused, an idea striking her. She batted her eyelashes in a way she hoped was seductive. “Of course, I’ll forgive you - if you give me that password.”

The barista sighed heavily. He took pad and pen from inside his apron pocket and scribbled something down. He handed it to Mindy, looking at Danny with raised eyebrows. “You’re a better man than me.”

 

Danny shrugged helplessly, but Mindy gasped, incensed, as the barista walked off to attend to the backup of orders. Before she could pull him back for a tongue lashing, Danny sat down across from her, distracting her by grabbing her fork and digging straight into her cheesecake. Mindy looked back and forth, hopelessly caught between two equally offensive gestures, and settled on the one close enough to slap. She snatched her fork out of his hand.

“We are not good enough friends for you to steal my lunch.”

“This is your lunch? Mindy, cake cannot be your lunch.”

“Cheesecake, Danny. With raspberries. This is like 4 different food groups.”

“Sure, if three of those food groups are sugar.”

“I guess it’s lucky my immune system is only strengthened by high fructose corn syrup then, isn’t it? Doctors say I’m a medical marvel. Well, _a_ doctor.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to know what Jeremy calls you during your little -” he twiddled his fingers at her, his face conveying his distaste for the whole concept of _Mindy and Jeremy_.

“I meant me, but thank you for acknowledging that other people also think that. And you know there is no, erm -” she flapped her hand in a vague imitation of Danny’s gesture. “I don’t know what it is with you that you can’t believe that we’re just friends.”

“Men and women can’t be friends.”

“Okay, Billy Crystal. What are we then?” She gestured between them.

“Well, you just said a minute ago that we’re not friends.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair like he’d won.

“Not good enough friends for you to steal my dessert, no. That’s reserved for the Best Friend Tier. You and I are somewhere between me being obliged to warn you when you have food in your teeth and you driving me to the airport.” Danny was about to protest, but she kept going.

“Want to know the best thing about this particular tier? We’re not close enough to have common bacteria. And you went and put your gross mouth germs all over my cheesecake, so now you have to buy me another one.” She grinned hopefully.

“Okay, no. I’m getting you a sandwich. One with vegetables. You want another coffee?”

“Yes, I do. With whipped cream, four sugars. Ooh, and caramel syrup!”  
“No. Coffee, regular cream, one sugar.”

“Sorry. Criticising my diet is like three tiers above where you are now.”

He sighed, pushing the sound through his teeth, but went to the counter without complaint.

 

He returned with a thick-cut sandwich that had more green in it than she’d like, but also a promising flash of colour that could be bacon. She picked it up and sniffed it, poking at one of the leaves with suspicion.

“Just eat it. Why do you have to make everything into this big production?”

“Hey, I watch Man vs. Wild. And Bear Grylls always says to check leaves before you eat them, in case they’re poisonous. I am just being responsible.”

Danny scoffed. “There is no way you watch that show for the information. You’re just hoping he’ll take his shirt off.”

“The fact that I have come to expect a certain level of shirtlessness in my blue-eyed British adventurers doesn’t mean I’m wrong about the leaves.”

“Yeah, this Starbucks is really just one step away from the deep Amazon.” He cut the sandwich into quarters for her, struggling through it with a plastic butter knife. “So, why are you harassing minimum-wage employees for their wifi?”

 

Mindy took a deep, fortifying breath. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“No, I don’t promise.”

“Shut up. Okay. I wanted to google some kick-ass cover letters for fellowships. I’ve been trying to write mine all day and it just sounds so lame.”

“It’s a cover letter, not an introductory spiel for one of your reality shows. Just keep it simple.”

“But Danny, all of the lame old guys applying for this job will be ‘keeping it simple’. I need to stand out.”

“Wait, what is this for?”

She pressed her lips together, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s for the position at Shulman and Associates.”

Danny nodded, shoving a forkful of cheesecake into his mouth. He pulled the fork back out, licking the remains of the cake off the tines. “Applying at my practice, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Because, you know, if you’re applying at Shulman’s…”

“Shut up. Don’t even say it.”

“I could help, if you wanted.”

“I don’t want. I have never wanted anything less.”

“Okay. Your funeral.”

“My… awesome celebration, you mean. Because I am totally getting this job.”

“Sure.”

 

Danny continued to attack her cheesecake and Mindy started batting at the keyboard, the industrious clatter covering for the fact that she was typing every curse word she knew over and over again.

“You want some?” He held up a forkful of cheesecake.

“Of my own cheesecake?”

“Here comes the airplane.” A rumble built up from the back of his throat and he snaked the fork towards her, smirking when she tried to duck out of the way, leaving a stripe of cream cheese down one cheek.

“Danny! Gross.” She wiped one hand down her cheek to get it off, and smeared it on his sweater as punishment. His horrified groan was its own reward.

“Can I see what you have so far?”

“No way, you perv.”

“Perv? Tell me you aren’t submitting a draft for your romance novel instead of your CV, Mindy.”

“I still maintain that it gives a practical demonstration of all relevant skills.” She held up one hand to check the points off. “Excellent command of language, the grit and determination to follow through on long tasks, and, of course, anatomy.” She grinned at him, waggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, and I’m just saying I can’t get you out of another sexual harassment suit.”

“Rude. For the record, telling my superior that I’m suffering from constant mini-strokes doesn’t count as help.”

“Well, let me make it up to you and look over your cover letter.”

She looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Fine. I guess it’s the least you can do for ruining my flawless complexion with cheesecake.” Before she could delete anything, Danny grabbed the laptop from her, switching it to face him. He looked in confusion at the long paragraph of expletives.

“Looks like we’ve got some work to do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE I WILL GET THIS DONE. I swear to you. And hey, if you have ideas, send them on through, because I swear to god these two idiots are consistently refusing to do what I want them to.


	9. Zoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK I WROTE A THING.
> 
> Or more accurately I subdivided the absolute monster of a chapter that I meant to post *last* time into YET SMALLER CHAPTERS, just so I could fucking update this thing.

From: Mindy  
To: Jeremy  
20:14  
_So Ethan stood me up._

From: Jeremy  
To: Mindy  
20:15  
_Forget him. He’s not worth your time._

 

From: Mindy  
To: Jeremy  
20:18  
_Uh, duh. The problem is, now I’m sitting here looking smoking hot and it’s completely wasted on the gross old dudes at this bar._

 

From: Jeremy  
To: Mindy  
20:21  
_Well, I was going to watch a movie you’d hate. A foreign film with nudity that is integral to the plot. Come over and talk me out of it?_

 

From: Mindy  
To: Jeremy  
20:23  
_Urgh, you’re the worst kind of perv, because you won’t even admit that’s why you’re watching it. I’ll be there in 15 to save you from yourself._

**********************

 

"So wait, is she the wife or the mistress?" Mindy pointed at the woman on the screen.

"No, neither. This is a flashback, to a friend from college."

"So they're banging, or no?"

"No."

"Then who was that naked chick from earlier?"

"Just a girl he picked up, I think."

"Are you sure? They literally look identical. Ugh. Clearly a male director."

"Well, he seems to be friends with this one. Maybe that means he won't sleep with her."

 

Mindy grabbed a handful of chips and shoved them into her mouth, surveying the screen shrewdly. “Danny doesn’t believe men and women can be friends.”

“Ah yes, the Billy Crystal theory of gender relations.”

“Exactly! But it’s bullshit, right?”

Jeremy snorted. “Of course it’s not bullshit.”

“Jeremy! I mean, _we’re_ just friends.”

“Well, only because you won’t sleep with me.”

“Wait, are you saying this entire friendship has just been like some gross pervert way to get into my pants?”

“No, of course not! I very much enjoy your company. But the fact remains that given the chance, I’d be in your bed in a heartbeat. Perhaps less.”

“And that would ruin the friendship.”

“Irrevocably.”

“But why?”

“Because if I take you out to lunch and we’re not sleeping together, that’s mates sharing cheesecake, and all is well. But if I take you out to lunch and we are sleeping together, well, that’s a commitment. And I don’t commit.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever. I have eaten cheesecake with lots of men I was seeing casually.”

“Have you eaten cheesecake with any men you were ‘seeing casually’ _and_ who had seen you trim your nose hairs?”

“I don’t have nose hairs! I was using those trimmers to get a jellybean out of my nostril.”

“I rest my case.”

 

Mindy popped a chip into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “So what you’re saying is that friendships between men and women have an expiry date.”

“Well, friendships between any people who are attracted to each other, I suppose.”

Mindy nodded. “Yes, that sounds more like it. I don’t think my friendship with Bobby Warbuckle in ninth grade was in any danger. He wore ties with t-shirts. _On purpose,_ ” she stage-whispered, then continued pensively. “Actually, this is putting my friendship with a couple of girls from college in a whole new light.” Jeremy made a surprised noise, but Mindy waved him off. “Oh no, not on my side. I tend to only fall for women who have my grade or career in their hands. It’s a bad habit. But on theirs. They totally girlfriendzoned me!” She peered at Jeremy. “Are _you_ girlfriendzoning me?”

 

“Mindy, you have made it perfectly clear you aren’t interested. I might be a cad, but I’m not a deceitful one. I would never feign interest in your life for such a purpose.”

Mindy shifted on the couch, tucking her knees underneath her as she settled, inches from him. “But if I were interested. Would you be?”

“Mindy. This is not a good idea.”

“I’m just asking.” She let her voice drop an octave, let the fact that her throat was suddenly dry make her husky.

Jeremy tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think you like cheesecake too much to be asking me this.”

Mindy leaned forward, breathing him in. She took a second to feel it, the butterflies, the irresponsible glee of doing this with _Jeremy._

“Fuck cheesecake.”

 

*********************************

She woke up before him, of course. She remembered what he’d said the night before, about the nose hair trimmer, and considered, for a moment, staying in bed. After all, this was Jeremy. He’d seen her face puffy with tears, seen her covered in meatballs, seen her after 24 hours of straight work in filthy scrubs.

 

But something itched at her, and she found herself slipping out of bed and into the bathroom before she could stop herself. She squeezed a pile of some French cream onto a tissue and used it to clean up the worst of her eye makeup, leaving the neatened remains of her eyeliner as though she just naturally retained a gentle smoky eye. Thankfully, Jeremy’s tendency to numerous overnight guests meant there was also an entire drawer of cheap toothbrushes and even a can of deodorant, and five minutes later she could slide back into bed convinced of her own beauty.

 

“Good morning.” She leaned over him, whispering into his ear.

“Mmm, morning.” Jeremy picked up his phone from the bedside table, squinting at the time. “Oh Jesus. I’m late.” He jumped out of bed and ran for his closet.

“Late? On a Saturday?” She sat up in bed. “Why’d you invite me over if you had to work?”

Jeremy carefully removed a pair of slacks from their hanger. “I don’t. I have that brunch date, remember?”

“Brunch date?”

“Yes, with that ballerina. Andie, I think.” He slipped one leg, then the other into the slacks, and zipped up the fly.

“Andie. As in McDowell? Is this the 80s?”

Jeremy halted midway through buttoning his trousers. “Mindy.” His tone was a warning.

“What? I’m not saying anything against her as a _person_ , it’s just, did her parents have a big thing for John Cusack movies, or did she change it after she saw Dawson’s Creek?”

“Mindy, come on. You knew about this brunch date yesterday, and you didn’t seem overly concerned with her parents’ naming inspirations then.”

“Well, yesterday you conveniently forgot to mention you had a date with an outdated rom-com character. Is she The Princess or The Basket Case?”

Jeremy exhaled through his teeth. “Jealousy doesn’t become you, Dr. Lahiri.”

“I am not _jealous.”_ Mindy threw the comforter back, grabbing her dress off the floor and shoving it over her head in record time. She slammed her feet into last night’s heels, grabbing her bag as she bolted out the door.

 

“Mindy! Mindy, _wait!”_ The hysterical strains of Jeremy’s British accent followed Mindy as she ran down the street, giant handbag trailing candy wrappers, tampons and empty tubes of lipgloss like some modern teenage adaptation of Hansel and Gretel.

_Actually, that is genius. I should really cash in on that idea before some big-time studio steals it, because clearly it would make bank. I mean, the witch was super creepy, with the cannibalism, and_ \- something solid blocked her way, her nose colliding with a far-too-familiar collarbone.

 

“Woah. Mindy?” Large hands fastened around her biceps, and Danny’s familiar smug expression dominated her vision. “Are you running _to_ the opening of a cake shop, or _away_ from your place of work?” 

“Hilarious, Danny.” 

“Hey.” His grin faded , a look of concern flitting over his face. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

 

She glanced behind her, to where Jeremy had been waylaid by two men selling extremely unconvincing Rolexes. Danny’s gaze followed hers, fixing on the Englishman with an odd sharpness. 

“Why isn’t Jeremy wearing a shirt? Does he really think we all need to see his chest _that_ much? This is a public street! I mean…” he trailed off, taking in Mindy’s mussed hair, the dress that was strewn with more sequins than Mindy normally wore during the day, the high, high heels. “You’re kidding me.” 

Mindy raised a hand in front of her. “Okay, before you start, don’t start.”

 

He closed his mouth and swallowed, pushing down whatever rant had been about to fall out at her. His eyes darkened. Jeremy had escaped without a Rolex and was jogging towards Mindy, until he caught sight of Danny and immediately skidded to a dead halt. He took a step backwards, then another, and Danny’s eyes were only getting darker. 

“What did he do to you?” Mindy could feel Danny next to her, almost vibrating with rage. 

“Nothing. Danny, I swear to god, whatever you are thinking, you are wrong. Okay? You’re wrong.” 

He looked at her shrewdly, squinting as if it would help divine her level of honesty. He blinked, shaking his head. “I’ll kill him. It’s not… it’s not _honourable.”_  

Mindy gagged loudly. “Is your white horse stabled close by?” 

“Don’t make fun of me, Mindy. You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I get it. It’s hard to be trapped, centuries out of your own time, having outlived your love, Guinevere -” 

“Stop that. Be serious.” 

“Um, no. You be serious. You’re acting like my dad right now, and it’s really unattractive.” 

“There are so many - I am not your _dad._ And I am plenty attractive!” 

“Okay, Oedipus.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Oedipus slept with his _mother,_ Mindy.” 

“Ew! Really? That’s so gross! Why are we always talking about him then? He does not deserve the fame.” 

Danny scrubbed his face with his hands. “I can’t believe you got through that many years of college without reading _Oedipus Rex_.” 

“ _Medea_ was really more my jam.” Mindy waggled her eyebrows, a saucy smile taking over her face. 

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” 

“Hey!” She slapped him lightly on the arm. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Danny brushed the slap off absentmindedly, still staring at Jeremy with eyes that reminded Mindy uncomfortably of some kind of hawk. “Mindy?” 

“Yes, Daniel?” 

“What did he do to you?” 

“He just…” Mindy paused, measuring her words carefully. “He did exactly what he always said he would.” 

_“REED.”_  

“Daniel Castellano, I swear to god if you take one step towards that cowering British man, I will remove your fucking testicles. Okay? This is none of your business. I know you feel like you have to protect my delicate, feminine self from the evils of the world -” 

“Okay, that’s a bit much -” 

“And I admire the sentiment. But like, in practice? Super gross.” 

“Super - gross?” 

_“So_ misogynistic.” 

“Protecting you from that fucking skeezeball is misogynistic?” 

“I don’t need you to protect me, okay? Yeah, alright, he’s a sleaze. _Everyone_ knows that about him. It’s not a surprise.” She waved a hand at Jeremy, and he took the opportunity to make a run for it. Mindy put a hand on Danny’s sleeve, warning him not to follow. “It’s fine. I’m not, like, brokenhearted because I thought I’d be the woman to, like, change him or anything…” She trailed off, lips tight, and caught his eye. 

Danny’s expression was suddenly sorrowful. “You thought you’d be the woman to change him.” 

“I think I always think I’ll be the woman to change the guy.”

 

She saw his breath hitch. His eyebrows relaxed from their accustomed scowl, raising so high he looked suddenly lost. His full lips parted, just a little, like there was something he wanted to say, some possible response to her self-pity. But today of all days, she didn’t want to hear it.

 

“Look, my interview went really well. And I want this job. I want it _so much._ But if we’re going to work together, you’re going to have to put away this whole chivalry thing. And you’re going to have to get over whatever inferiority complex you have going with Jeremy, because Shulman _loves_ him. He is definitely a part of this weirdo work family now. So do whatever you have to do, but get over it.” 

“If we’re going to work together.” 

“Yeah. We can’t work together if we can’t be professional. Or at least, like, not beating up co-workers for really sexist reasons.” She sighed. “Look, I have to go. I actually had somewhere to be before all the men in my life decided to regress to caveman status. Talk later, okay?”

 

She waited a second, for whatever condescending lecture she knew was coming, but he wasn’t looking at her. Hiis eyebrows hadn’t floated back down yet, stuck halfway up his face, making him more a puppy than ever. A beat, and then he seemed to realise she was still there.“Yeah,” he murmured, glancing across the street at nothing. “Okay.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry, for everything. I need you to understand how fucking UNCOOPERATIVE Danny is being, as a character, right now. He's an uncommunicative mess and that just does not work for me. So you're probably going to get increasingly shorter chapters as I get up to the bit where he's refusing to talk, unless a miracle occurs and my writer's block breaks. If you are a person who prays, please waste some of that praying energy on me. I do not deserve it but I certainly would appreciate it.
> 
> ALL MY LOVE BECAUSE YOU ARE ALL THE BEST.


End file.
